Lycanthropy

[ChristopherSea]

Laura/Fractal edit 2/version 2.5

I dread the romance of midnight
and your poet's false harvest moon, Why false? ..."your poignant harvest moon" would negate the need to explain how a none-existent moon could raise tides and illume a path. A disconnect
which steers the tides and lights your way,
whilst invading my sickened cells. This is becoming a problem for you, chris. To write a stanza with lines beginning I, and, which, whilst is ...well, No need to say it.
In fits of hydrophobia,
rabid thoughts usurp my senses.
What inspires the hearts of lovers, Does "what" mean "that which"?
vexes my foul wretched core. Way over-modified. Words do not convey more by quantity but by precision.

My lust is more like contagion; I never suggested otherwise. More like contagion than what?
in your terror, my hunger grows.
Grins transform into grimaces
when my shadow’s cast on all fours. Though I have no idea what this means I trust you enough to expect that all will come clear. We shall see

My assets have been exhausted
on cures for this chronic disease.
Thus, dispatch me kegs of dark rum "Thus" is unarguably the wrong word. In fact, it is diametrically wrong.How will you pay for the rum and coke?
and narcotics to blunt my ire. blunted ire. Hmmm.

Go crush mandrake root to a paste;
prepare a bitter wolfs-bane draft.
Maintain resolve and don't dally;
never pity my abject soul. Omit this stanza. I needs a complete rewrite. Examine dally and abject. Examine "Go crush". Examine "wolfs-bane".

Gather up Nightshade and Hemlock
to brew a lethal cup of tea.[b] Not a hope in hell. You need tea to make tea. Examine the use of the "to" . In the words of the song:
"..and if you're good I'll search for wood so you can cook, while I stand loooooo-king" A nice loin of Larch...rare for me, please.
I welcome your silver bullets;
take aim, lest I disembowel you. "lest" is arcane in this...especially so close to silver bullets.Is disembowling dependent upon taking aim?

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

Hi chris,
another dark escapade. Needs tightening up. Word use seems sloppy and haphazard...lacking precision. Keep your concept close to the surface and do not dive so deep for the pearls...evertime you come up for air bits of your raft have drifted off.
Best
tectak
Laura/Fractal edit 2/version 2.5 [b]Thank you ladies!

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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.

In fits of hydrophobia,
rabid thoughts usurp my senses.
What inspires the hearts of lovers,
vexes my foul wretched core.

My lust is more like contagion;
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;
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;
never pity my abject soul.

Gather up Nightshade and Hemlock
to brew a lethal 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.

Laura edit 1/version 2.0 Thank you

---------------------------------
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.

In fits of hydrophobia,
rabid thoughts usurp my senses.
What inspires the hearts of lovers,
vexes my despicable core.

My lust is more like contagion;
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;
please deliver me kegs of rum
and narcotics to blunt my ire.

Go crush the mandrake into paste;
prepare a bitter wolfs-bane draft.
Maintain resolve and don't waver;
never pity my abject soul.

Gather up Nightshade and Hemlock
to brew a lethal 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.

Yikes, that looks like too much work, but I will see what a quick edit can do!