At morn a mother checked her baby
Greatly disturbed by changes detected,
Was it hers or another? Well maybe ...,
The ghouls had, her little lad, selected.
The differences were subtle at first
But as he aged they became more pronounced.
For strange victuals he started to thirst,
And the savior of the Christians renounced.
People shied from his strange canine features
Dark sustenance he soon started to crave.
The knowledge he sought came not from teachers,
But in opening a freshly dug grave.
The changeling considered the townsfolk fools,
Leaving one night he returned to the ghouls.
© 1997 Edward P. Berglund
"The Changeling": © 1997 Ron Shiflet. All rights reserved.
Graphics © 1997 Old Arkham Graphics Design. All rights reserved. Email to: Corey T. Whitworth.
Created: October 21, 1997; Updated: August 9, 2004