The beast of poor

I sat peering from my window, to the dark,
dismal moors that stretch before.
The darkness it swallowed and the moonlight it followed,
stalked hare and rabbit greater than before.
The moor knew of times are changing so searched for the foul beasts of poor.
Oh, how the peasants had conjured, with elven help the sky thundered creating beast moe deadly than before.
And the beast will hunt forever more.

So silver bow and arrow I stick to sanguine shadows, stretched put upon the floor.
The night was still I remember, strange for November as it had not been before.
And now how the leaves rustle freely, and the sky bled shadows neatly; neatly to the floor.
And so I stand awaiting, dread with the contemplation of the beast of poor.
Which shall hunt never more

My ears prick with breaking, as the elderbush is shaking, dropping beads onto the floor.
Oh how the beads looked foreign on the cold nights winter floor,
Which beast would tread uneasily, feet, nay paw sneaking onto these moors oncemore.
And now the bush a shaking, as bow aimed and with breath bating I wait contemplating the beast before.
Which shall kill nevermore.

Out came rabbit leaping, paws and paws fleeting, scurrying for his keeping, in which mistress may adore.
And carefully I lowered, bow and arrow lower to the night owned floor.
As bast is not yet near, and my heart doth fill with fear and it's teeth knowing I but hear
As the beast moves ignored. Oh how lamb and sheep asunder, run from passing thunder into the bests lure.
And with singular action snapping, the lambs bleeding is silenced once more,
And so the night grows silent, once more.

Beads of sweat appear, curve around the ear and splash onto the floor,
How the beast doth move closer and night is almost over,
The night must out longer I doth implore.
Slowly from out the shadows, not man nor wolf nor warlock,
The beasts back arched inwards, as it looked skywards, howling to the moon I once saw,
And with clapping jaws it stands until silence is once more.

How I aim win shaking fingers as the best lingers, lingers on the spot before.
As his footsteps uneven and claws show signs of bleeding, yet is not his blood on claw.
And with docile head he switched, unto the spot I am stood, he teeth again grow sharper and the beast to sprint faster,
faster than before.

And so with bow anchored nervously, I send arrow flying futher than before.
The sliver tip doth glitter, in the moonlight it doth flitter as soaring towards the beast of poor.
Oh how they contact like thunder, the staggers, falls asunder, unto the very night owned floor.
It wimpers only slightly as arrow wedged nicely between ribs and pierced heart, Tis sure.

So now it lay dead almost sleeping, asleep yet weeping, bleeding onto the moor floor.
So now elven created of poor ,once man, once boy, no more.
Doth sleep upon the moon owned floor,
Pierced with silver
And shall rest forever more.

Hello, I'm Bryan, I will be your reviewer for this afternoon.
OK, for starters, there were a LOT of spelling errors. And a few grammatical mistakes (which I understand is unavoidable with a poem is this size,) Also:

I sat peering from my window, to the dark

So silver bow and arrow I stick to sanguine shadows, stretched put upon the floor.

One minute he's in his house, looking through the window, then all of a sudden he's just out on the moor?
That's enough of the negatives. Time for your favorite, the positives.
I love the way this poem was written. Like someone from that time period was actually telling it. Example:

wedged nicely between ribs and pierced heart, Tis sure.

Doth sleep upon the moon owned floor,

I like that old timey language.
Also, when I looked at the poem, my first thought was "Oh god, I'm going to be bored to death. Look at the size of that thing!" But you did a very good job of telling the story and keeping me wanting more throughout the entire thing. Which is not easy to do with a poem of this size.
Overall, I like your writing style and the story itself, but you should use spell check a bit more.
I give it a 7.5/10
Best Wishes!

Hello! I'm Truth, and I shall also be your reviewer tonight
My corrections and suggestions will be in red, and my comments in bold...

retrodisco666 wrote:I sat peering from my window, into the dark,
dismal moors that stretch before.
The darkness it swallowed and the moonlight it followed, nice internal rhyme here
stalked hare and rabbit greater than before.
The moor knew of times are changing so searched for the foul beasts of poor.
Oh, how the peasants had conjured, with elven help the sky thundered creating beast more deadly than before.
And the beast will hunt forever more.

So silver bow and arrow, comma I stick to sanguine shadows, stretched put upon the floor.
The night was still, comma I remember, strange for November as it had not been before.
And now how the leaves rustle freely, and the sky bled shadows neatly; neatly to the floor. I'm not sure about this repetition here...
And so I stand, comma awaiting with dread the contemplation of the beast of poor. Try this instead
Which shall hunt never more

My ears prick with breaking, as the elder bush is shaking, dropping beads onto the floor.
Oh how the beads looked foreign on the cold night's winter floor, Did you mean the winter floor belonged to the winter night?
Which beast would tread uneasily, feet, nay paw sneaking onto these moors once more.
And now the bush a shaking, as bow aimed and with breath bating I wait contemplating the beast before.
Which shall kill nevermore.

Out came the rabbit leaping, paws and paws fleeting, scurrying for his keeping, in which mistress may adore.
And carefully I lowered, bow and arrow lower to the night owned floor.
As bast is not yet near, and my heart doth fill with fear and it's teeth knowing I but hear
As the beast moves ignored. Oh how lamb and sheep asunder, run from passing thunder into the bests lure.
And with singular action snapping, the lambs bleeding is silenced once more,
And so the night grows silent, once more. The second 'once more' should probably be something else. With the two endings almost identical, I just feel as if I've read this line before. I'd try rephrasing this for you, but I'm having trouble not making it sound too cheesy

Beads of sweat appearred, curved around the ear and splashed onto the floor, Better to stay in the past tense, like the rest of the poem
How the beast doth move closer and night is almost over,
The night must out longer I doth implore.
Slowly from out the shadows, not man nor wolf nor warlock,
The beasts back arched inwards, as it looked skywards, howling to the moon I once saw,
And with clapping jaws it stands until silence is once more.

How I aim win shaking fingers as the beast lingers, lingers on the spot before.
As his uneven footsteps and claws show signs of bleeding, yet is not his blood on claw.
And with docile head he switched, unto the spot I am standing, his teeth again grow sharper and the beast to sprint faster,
faster than before.

And so with bow anchored nervously, I send arrow flying further than before.
The sliver tip doth glitter, in the moonlight it doth flitter, comma as soaring towards the beast of poor.
Oh how they contact like thunder, the staggers, falls asunder, unto the very night owned floor.
It whimpers only slightly as arrow wedged nicely between ribs and pierced heart, t'is sure.

So now it lay dead almost sleeping, asleep yet weeping, bleeding onto the moor floor.
So now elven created of poor ,once man, once boy, no more.
Doth sleep upon the moon owned floor,
Pierced with silver
And shall rest forever more.

Alright, this was quite charming, although speaking of beasts, to make it more poetic. I love the sound you chose to go for, it's timeless really. Nice work!

-Truth-