Upon a midnight werewolf’s cry,
Despair read in his soul,
I heard his lonesome bay did try
To change its lonely role.
“Kill me with a silver bullet.
Put away all my pain.
My human part wishes it –
Your kind my teeth have slain!”
He came in furs human and beast
In agitated state.
I told him those who’d help him least
Were humans it once ate.
But little did the werewolf know
I was no human kind.
As I crept forth ‘neath the moon’s glow,
He saw my mummy’s bind.
“Perhaps you’ve asked the wrong person,
I’m dead now many years.
Dracula lies in his mansion
He’ll listen to your tears.”
“Dracula drinks from his lust,
I drink AND eat from need.
I’d no soon a demon trust
Than beg the old count’s greed.”
Hearing dares and dreary states,
A demon came to us.
It said, “Enjoy your human plates.
Your pain’s caused from this fuss.”
It stayed too long, kept tempting us:
“Or I can cure you both.”
Made of mold and putrid puss,
We shyed from his cruel oath.
And so say I, a monster right
For speaking of this sadness:
Locks be tight! This very night
The moon is over madness.