Lycanthropy

[FractalPacifist]

Off the bat, I like the not-over-the top rhyme between core/fours and you/too in a few of the verses. It doesn't feel like you stressed the rhyming - it just came about naturally, and sounds great.

That said, I feel like this piece would work better with just a sprinkling more similarity in sound from line to line, or stanza to stanza. Because you're working with a fairly strong structure, I found myself looking for or anticipating rhymes and matches that didn't come. However, I'm also weird about rhyming, assonance, and all related elements, so please take this with a large grain of salt.

Great read!

Laura edit 1/version 2.0

I dread the romance of midnight
and your poet's false harvest moon,
which steers the tides and lights your way,
whilst invading my sickened cells. what I found enticing about this first stanza is that it starts out very poetic, traditional sounding - "steers the tides and lights your way" - but then this last line brings it down to a very harsh reality. Excellent.

In fits of hydrophobia, whether intentional or not, the connection between water and the moon in many cultures is interestingly brought to light here. Or at least, I noticed it, and liked it a lot.
rabid thoughts usurp my senses.
What inspires the hearts of lovers,
vexes my foul wretched core. I'd like a comma right after "foul", but not completely necessary.

My lust is more like contagion; love the mild alliteration in this stanza - "lust/like" and "grin/grimace".
in your terror, my hunger grows.
Grins transform into grimaces
when my shadow’s cast on all fours.

My resources have been exhausted
on a cure for this malady; the way "malady" reads is bothering me just a bit, since it ends on an upbeat "eee" sound that my brain wants a match for.
please deliver me kegs of rum
and narcotics to blunt my ire.

Go crush mandrake root to a paste;
prepare a bitter wolfs-bane draft.
Maintain resolve and don't waver;a little repetitive here, since not waivering and maintaining resolve are the same thing.
never pity my abject soul.

Gather up Nightshade and Hemlock
to brew a lethal cup of tea. is this the rhyme with "malady" that I was craving? If so, it feels a stanza too late. But I really like the image of a cup of tea.
I welcome your silver bullets;
take aim, lest I disembowel you.

Ignore the human before you;
beware of the beast deep within.
Better run and hide your daughters;
I once had a little girl too. strong ending.