Moonstruck

Tonight the moon is a perfect orb,
A silvery gem on Heaven's cloak.
Tonight a fearful change on this earth
Shall arrive at midnight's stroke.
Diana's dread order her bonded slaves
Must this dreary night reluctantly obey -
Poor damned souls, by Phoebe's magic
From daily humdrum lives drawn away.
Human guise they are now to shed,
Hidden in darkness, obscured from sight -
Bodies of fearsome deadly predators,
Human souls in captive plight.
No more power have reason and love
Against this black spell on their souls laid,
Than a fragile net of twine
Could wield against a steel blade.
All night in hunger for human flesh,
They shall stealthily stalk and prowl -
In excruciating misery greeting
Their cruel mistress with moaning howl.
When great Phoebus' golden sceptre
Topples his sister's silver throne
Then are found these beasts of night,
Their animal selves to have outgrown.
A broken man, wounded and bleeding ,
In a sun-dappled forest glade -
Praying with all his soul and hoping
That the night saw no more monsters made.