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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Folklore · #1781010
Little Red Riding Hood in sestina form, sort of, but warped. Gothic in style.
A/N: My first attempt at a sestina; not really sure how I feel about it.  Especially the ending, though otherwise I fell it gets better as it goes along.

On the Moon

When darkness falls, and clouds reveal the moon
'Tis out I come, and glory in the night.
Reflected sun will draw from me a howl
Entwined with laughter, as I shift and change.
The people shut their doors to bar me out--
I smell their fear; it gladdens all my heart.

I shall seek out a child, tender heart,
And eat him, tender, in the light of moon--
And hear his fearful family crying out.
Their fear rings out into the empty night--
I'll kill them too, unless their whining change.
They know not hating love, and loving howl.

It took me time to learn to proper howl;
Now when my noise goes out it sets your heart
To thud before you are aware of change
From gloomy clouds to bloody, laughing moon.
You tried to run and hide from me.  At night
Your hood of dying sun will mark you out.

You tried so hard, too hard to keep me out;
You tried to mimic your beloved's howl
And set me running, chasing into night;
Oh dear one, oh my tender heart, your heart
Belongs to me.  So promised me the moon,
And set me searching, seeking out the change.

Your hood was white until I made it change
By dyeing it with blood spilled out
Of your beloved, who howled once at moon.
But in the end he could not howl
And not sing joy of you, his heart;
And so I tracked him down, that bloody wondrous night--

And found you, realized why he sang to night
Of you.  You know, I think you made me change.
I used to hunt sans thought, and now my heart
Thrills at their deadly fear as they cry out,
My lovely prey.  It's near a howl--
But they cry out at me, I at the moon.

And in the night at you, my tender heart;
The change calls out your fear to me.
The moon will never end my howl.
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