Polymorph, a Poem of Transformation

crimson light hangs in the air-
follow the tracers of the sigil
-power contained-

reined in
(can you tame wild horses?)
serving my purpose
to create and destroy

it makes me -breaks me-
into something new

& different

with fist and fang
born in silver fire
leaping at the edges

of the circle
protected by runes
keeping ill will out (or in?)

engineering
-if you can engineer creation-
my transformation
from mortal

to beast