Once a month to howl at the silver orb.
Once a month to thirst for blood at the least,
For the flesh of simpler beasts.
Human under the sun,
Wolf in the pale glow of the moon.
By day, these mortal beings cannot know.
By night, how can these creatures of the day,
Because of his curse he is brutally slain.
But how could they know
He was the one who had kept the evil away?
So many years pass, that the beast is forgotten,
Then a vampire slave happens upon his grave.
How could she know that it is her he would save?
And the beast's soul returned to its body's embrace.
Climbing out of the grave,
Blinking his yellow eyes and twitching his wolven ears,
Bewildered, he turns and ponders the missing years.
Shaking off his death rags, he tries to recall his name.
Remembering nothing, he declares to the earth,
"My name shall be Silen! Beast of the Lycan Curse!"
Eric Charles Richardson
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