I sit expectantly beneath a cruel,cold,and unsmiling moon
awaiting the wonderful hour of it's sweet release.
The eerie hooting of the owls is a soothing,confidence
invoking sound unto my ears upon this frigid night.
The horribly wild howling of the wolves slices through me
like an incandescent beam of joy lighting every quivering
fiber of my being with super charged intensity.
And a wonderfully morbid sense of fascination takes its
terrible grip upon my heart as my master at last rises
to rule the seamless night with her iron fist.
Donavon Scott Vinson