The Werewolf

Full moon, fear, death
The stench of your blood has stained my breath
Blood drips, I smile
I won't be changing back for a while

My claws are out and I need
To feed on you, to make you bleed
Flesh, brain, muscle, bone
My stomach full, I'm going home

As I walk, my pupils widen
I see a virgin on the horizon
I want to tear into her, make her hurt
Maybe I have some room for dessert.

As I tear her open, I see
Her virgin blood pouring over me
I lick my lips, I taste her flavour
The pour angel taste is what I need to Savour