Tag Archives: werewolf

As I Walked Out One Evening-2017

27 Jul

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
I looked over his shoulder                                     Julia DarkRose FB 4
for vines and olive trees,
for marble, well-governed cities
and ships upon wine-dark seas;

But there on the shining metal
his hands had put instead
an artificial wilderness
and a sky like lead.
The stars are dead.
The animals will not look.

He, my deluded lover,
asked me to lay my sleepy head
upon his faithless arm.
Instead, I plunged my hands into the red water,
I plunged them in up to my elbow;
Stare, Oh how I stared into the basin
and I wondered why the world had chosen to miss
the shining darkness before them.

The glacier knocked in my cupboard,
the desert sighed in my bed,
and the crack in my tea cup opened.

So, I walked out onto the brightly lit lane,
it led to the land of the dead.

As I walked out one evening,
I went through the werewolf’s painful change.
Turning my head away
on the sweaty bolster, I tried to remember
the mood of my womanhood,
but lying in my sweat and blood, at last, as always,
letting it happen, the fierce fur,
soft to my face.

I now hear with sharper ears,
and live and love with the darkness
of my imagined fallen grace.
With my bestial understanding,
I open my wolfen eyes and truly see.…

The soul shrinks
from all that it is about to and should remember,
from the punctual rape of every blessed day, and cries,
“Oh, let there be nothing on earth
but what I choose to see,
nothing but rosy glasses to cover my eyes,
and gloves to cover my hands in the rising steam,
and guilty, blurred dances done in the sight of heaven.”

They never find the way out of their prison
and into the precious,
saving graces of the Darklight.
Pale souls they are, consumed by fear
of the living world they haunt.
Yet, they have not learned what habits lead them
to hunt what they do not want;
Nor have they learned who does not need them;
They are no one here,
until they are truly the someone they need to be.

Oh, what makes them so ugly, to me,
is self-inflicted ignorance.
Incurable ignorance.
I don’t want to harm them,
I think this very thought,
right up to the moment I slit their throats
with the truth.

I am touched with the moon’s red silver,
I am my own wolf sun,
made of human moonlight.

~Julia DarkRose



26 Jun

By Julia DarkRose

DarkRose            Issue 7 image 4

No moon yet, but starlight burns in every direction. The crickets sing in the low lands as I climb, ears pricked and aware. The grass is dry, and the storm it desires but a distant rumble beyond the high ridges.

I, a dark rose, who have attained all life, now ask still further joy. For what is my sovereignty if I turn aside from my bestial pleasure? What is my earthly power if it stands still and rest content? I have flown from flesh to spirit, I have laughed at death. Should I not rejoice in this corporeal realm where flesh and death prevail?

I am invincible, I descend upon the ungrateful child’s conquered land and claim my spoil. I have lived here before, fixed to earth, now, I live again. With my new strength, just as the long vine that hangs upon the tree of all life, I wind my dark wisdom home again and seize what is mine. Night is my drinking hall. No longer held by death and his minions: I crowd them out, those joyless hordes of earth’s bratty progeny. I pour the ruby wine of victory! I have conquered blood, now the precious blood of all life I shall take delicious delight in imbibing.

I seek the others. Wolves, Owls, and dark angels, no longer a phantom echo of my voice but a separate-therefore real-presence to feed my essence and run wild and free with me over and through our world. I hear them singing to me, the notes ring out this time on their own, scaling low to high, then dropping into a moan. I hear howls in the mountains, mournful, aching, desirous, calling to me, and I must go.

Up into the black sky I climb, as the moon rises past the river. I come closer to the sound, stepping along narrow ridges of sheared, weather-blunted slate, eyes watchful for a glimpse of shadowy fur or the gleam of midnight eyes in the silver light.

My nipples harden, my silky midnight tresses become electric as all my attention focuses on the guiding whine: less than a thousand strides, I judge. I creep forward.

Silence. The howls have stopped. Hidden in the darkness of the grove, are the tribes of the moon, my brothers and sisters. The underbrush explodes, paws and wings crashing in a panicked flight. Once again I have noise to follow, and I begin to close on the others.

I fight the wind to climb the mountain and follow their bloody trail. My nose sniffs each clump of dirt, desperate to hold their scent. I gain the snow-lined ridge and find fresh spoor, barely an hour old, in the pine groves. I cover each urination with my own mark. I will not sneak up on them and frighten them, but make my presence known as wildly and vocally as possible.
The rain seems endless in its vigor and intensity, but it lessens to a steady drizzle as I approach the tribe, my tribe. I am so very close now, I can taste the copper in the air. I begin howling and dancing and becoming more…myself…in the grip of strong emotions.

I lift my face toward the silky moon and writhe and howl one last time. I am prepared to do this as long as my throat and lithe body holds out, but almost at once an answer comes from upwind and uphill. It rises, in a mixture of surprise and happiness, and I hear the invitation in it…

Who and what am I? Who and what is it that hears my cries of darklight, my cries of erotic dark truth? Who am I, well, I am…Julia DarkRose…I always have been and always will be…

I bound rapturously towards the direction of my tribe, and find myself on the banks of the rapids. The others stand on the far bank, and we look at each other, across the chasm that separates us.

A tangle of many branches, mud and small annoying rocks swell the river at a bend above the tree. Flash flood! I shine my darklight in warning, but still it seems my tribe cannot hear me over the crash of the lying rapids.

Even as the dirty water smashes the tree of life and engulfs them, I spring forward into the false dark flood. I hear a frightened cry as my tribe paddles to keep their heads above water, then silence. I swim into the flood towards the last sound. Everything is swirling and collapsing in the green-brown delusional froth atop the river.

A thump-splash of a wet, furry body against mine, and I sink my teeth into him to hold on while I strike out for where I think the shore of truth and darklight is. The soil of the banks erodes under my feet as I scramble, burdened with weight, to climb out of the raging river.

Then I feel him twitch with life and scrabble with his paw on the slick slate just underwater, finding toeholds under his own renewed power. I unlock my jaws thankfully, and I push my weary body onto safe ground.

Our skins have cuts from the jagged rocks and splintered branches of deceit, but they are surface wounds. Too cold and tired even to clean ourselves, we curl together into a small hollow on the north edge of a rabbit clearing. It offers some shelter from the sleeting wind as the eye of the storm moves southward and the backlash begins.

There we sleep, as the winds howl our names.

Our blood is strengthened by the truth. We are the stars and we are the earth. We are not a fictional character. We are not all powerful all knowing beings. We are not merely mundanes. We are evolution in its most glorious and majestic form…at least I know that I, DarkRose, am without a single doubt or need of pretense to convey this truth, to convey that which I was borne to be.

We, my brother and I, awaken to a few bright stars and the moon upon our shoulders, glimmering in white and crimson silver. We set out to continue our journey, we must find the rest of our brethren. We must find the tribes of the moon…

I am neither vampire or wolf, nor owl or anything other than that which Nature needs me to be. I am what I was born to be.

Stay strong, if you should call upon me and desire to walk with me… I’m coming for you.

~Julia DarkRose

Savage Beauty

17 Feb

Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray
Savage Beauty

This one thought keeps echoing in my head…fear prevents one from joining the fray of life, leaving only carrion while the brave carry off the choicest meats.

With that thought, I rise and howl. The hunt has begun…soon I will be drowsy and reveling in my blood-euphoria. The mere thought of my prey’s blood coursing through my body, being covered in their sanguine elixir…fucking my hunt then devouring them body and soul…is almost more than I can bare to think about without cum already dripping from my hot pussy.

Not yet…once more I go into the fray. Once more I hunt, devour, and become the glorious predator that nature has made…

I am a creature of the night. I am your most horrific nightmare and I am your most sensual dream.

I am on the prowl.

*Of course, now I only desire to hunt down my husband, my Devoted Blood.*


Borne From The Sublime Darkness

7 Mar



…Because the truest, purest, most erotically beautiful Darkness…is not dripping with blood (especially off a set of fake vampire fangs), wearing said fake fangs, black Gothic and/or “vampire” clothing, sleeping in a coffin, or dancing in a cemetery (I love dancing in the cemetery, especially when its very windy!).

The truest, most beautiful and erotically pure Darkness, comes from within. We are born to it. It is as much a part of us as the need to breathe in air.

It’s true, all people have darkness within. For nature is both, light and dark (not to be confused with good and bad). I am, of course, speaking about something more sublime, something ethereal in nature.

The Darkness of creation, the Darkness of Lilith and Lucifer (just symbols) cannot ever be faked or learned from a book, a movie, a video game, a role-playing game, a religion, the occult, and so on…especially not in the flesh of a true dark angel, a true brother and sister of The Tribes of the Moon.

Wolf, Lycan, Vampire, Blood drinker, Bear, Jungle Cats, whatever, to me, we are all the same in spirit. In our fleshly forms we may manifest our hungers and our dark appetites and chosen paths differently from one another, but in the end, at least to me, we all come from the same pure Darkness.

I stand with all my brothers and sisters!

I am a blood drinking (human blood only) wolf…I am the huntress. I am the erotically beautiful creature my Mother and Father of Darkness, of Nature intended for, needed for me to be.

I DO NOT CARE WHAT LABELS YOU CHOOSE! All brethren of the Moon are my family. I will never forsake my family.


Go, In Darkness

11 Feb

Property of The DarkRose Journal, 2013
By DarkRose, 2013
Blood Moon Angel
Go, In Darkness

Happy our early days,
When we shined in our
Dark angel-infancy,
Before we understood this world.

Oh, my darling night!
There is in your children,
A deep and dazzling dark light!
Through all our fleshly desires
Glittering streams of truth and everlastingness
Reach our spirits,
Our eye dazzles at it, as at eternity…

We see every night,
The blood moon,
Every night we glimpse forever,
We see it like a great ring of pure
and endless darklight.

In our darkness,
All is chaotically calm, as it is midnight bright;
And round beneath it,
Time in hours, days, years,
Driven by the universal spheres,
Like a vast shadow moved;
in which the world
And all her beauty were hurled
Into our ebon hearts.

We watch the others walking
On their air of false grace and glory,
Whose light doth try to trample on our
precious nights.
Their days, which are at best
but dull and pointless,
Filled with brightly lit decay…

My brethren, I cannot send you alone into
the world of false light, whilst I sit here
basking in the glittering night,
Without placing a bloody kiss
Upon your dewy smooth cheek,
And a sword bathed
In the blood of false angels,
Into your fearless hands…

Go my family, the tribe of the blood moon
And do what we do best…

Hunt, devour, teach, bring change, give without ego,
And love with the fierce, unquenchable,
Dark fire of our nighttime world.


Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood

6 Feb

Property of The DarkRose Journal, 2013
Copyright 2/6/13, By DarkRose

This one is dedicated to my husband, Devoted Blood, and our unholy union.


Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood

Oh how he loves my lips
When they are wet with his sex
And red with wicked desires.

Amongst all the regal beauties of the bowers,
My love, aches for only me.
So sticky sweet I am
He sucks the coital honey
From my dewy bowl,
And intoxicatingly mad,
With wild, delirious dark bliss,
Within my unholy grail,
My perfect dark angel, yields, to me
His very soul,
And drinks in my bloody kiss.

I let down my silken tresses of blackest night over my milky white shoulders and open
my creamy thighs over my beloved…

Oh beastliness! the raptures
of this night!
What fierce convulsions of
fiendish delights!
In each other’s arms embraced,
We lay confounded, and dissolved.
Hot bodies mingling, garnet juices blending,
Darting fierce and flaming kisses,
Plunging into boundless hellfire bliss.
Our bodies, and our souls
Engulfed in a crimson blaze.

Enslaved in his wolfish charms,
I crush my true love in my velvet arms
And make him destroy me…utterly.

He fire’s my blood with untold desires,
His kisses, razor sharp,
Upon my lips and limb,
Sends our senses reeling and pulses
Swimming in the savage river of our sanguine abyss.

Oh darkest rhapsody,
Cherished absolution,
Sweetest-rapture past expressing!
We melt together in
Perfected serenity,
Breathing our soul into the other with each
Midnight kiss.

Then suddenly, with a brutal, passionate,
Enshriined caress,
We draw completely into one another,
Flesh of flesh,
Blood of blood,
One spirit.
Smoldering still with blasphemous hunger,
We sink into the shiny earth
Our blood-soaked bodies aflame,
With a spell-binding happiness
Of which we cannot name…
‘Twas pain, ‘Twas pleasure,
‘Twas infernally intense.

Swift rivulets of the dark fire have found
Their way and bound our hearts.
We know not night nor day, nor life, nor death, nor aught that foolish mortals know.
We only know that we love
Each other so…

We sleep no more
From dusk to fiery dawn,
Amongst roses dripping red
Upon some muddy hill,
We wake often, from unearthly dreams
Of ebon bliss,
To find our ruddy mouths all
Melted in a kiss…



29 Jan

Property of The DarkRose Journal, 2013
Copyright 1/29/13, By DarkRose
Bloody Truth

Nux Nox
Pax Pox
Hex Hax
Wix Wax
Hithero hothero
Withero wothero

The bitter mends
The sweet mends
The silver mends
The gold mends
The warm mends
The cold mends
The light mends
The dark mends,
Thus we are renewed this night,
Through the ebon grace
Of our own divine.

Virtue is ours, as of the Dark Angel,
Beware the fire we cast at thee.
Wisdom is ours, as of this Earth,
Beware the fire we cast at thee.
Power is ours, as of the moon,
Beware the fire we cast at thee.

Bearer of the false light,
Dead thing, “evil,” old and dried
Your foul skin be cast aside
And thus transformed to black fire.
Beneath your flesh of confusion,
Behold your bones of that which is true:
Still all save one are false,
And must deceive where the spirit’s eye is shut:
Yet open now that eye
And the true bone shall rise.

Halls of blood where life has fled
Walls of bone that close you round
Break your reign,
Your yoke be shed.
Now, melt your anger
In tears of salt
Be turned to Dark Love
By the sweet scarlet salve.

Flesh lacking blood
Bone lacking flesh
Spirit lacking substance
Arise and be fed
Arise to bone and flesh and blood,
This night renewed by the dark Gospel’s food.
Nevermore to thirst for ours
Nor on our living limbs to twine.

Fruit of ruby,
Pearl of blood
Red of Dark Love
the gift has been given…
Shall you waste and mourn your “loss?”
While we flourish in Darkness’ sight,
A gall to our living flesh,
Forever your false verity
Mocked before our Darklight.
By the tribes of the moon,
You must choose…

O Serpent wise
Thy flesh doth rise
To warm our mortals bed
Where we shall be forever wed.

We are the DarkBreed.


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