Wolf

The Wolf pads lightly,
Through the brush,
The rush of wind bristles fur,
Wish it were a normal Wolf,
But it's not.
It's huge and monstrous and vague,
Blurry edges, bloody smiles,
Miles away in a tiny bed,
I lie,
Shudders fill my little head,
I die,
A thousand murderous, gnawing deaths,
I cry,
Padding feet and dripping smiles,
Worm their wiles into my mind,
I hear it coming, bushes rustle,
A distant flute plays,
Peter speaks,
The cock crows thrice,
Darkness swims,
The windows rattle,
I cower,
The Wolf Howls.