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By the moon howling,
Lies a man transformed,
By the deepest primal rage.
Cursed to roam the night,
A man in wolf shape.
Wishing for the sunrise,
Deep inside.
Moon red like blood,
Upon the sea.
Dear lord, let me rest
Let me see.
My eyes raise up to view a silent moon,
Then blood begins to toil rage doth vaguely bloom.
A sudden hate becomes my only sense for breath,
As I hunger more and more for tasting living flesh.
In the country side,
By the grave stones and whispering woods.
Sings a voice deep in the trees,
A Witch's song,
Calling out to my heart.
Bestowing blessing to seize me from the dark.
A secret horror I must bare,
Until it ends the full moon glare.
A sudden hate becomes,
My only sense for breath.
As I hunger more and more for,
Tasting living flesh.
As they run and they scurry,
Across the village I sight,
A witch's humble gaze.
The one who wields the moonlight,
The sun she doth murder.
To bring the wolves into men,
And the men into night.
Turning angels into flies,
By the wave of her hand.
My blood doth she command.
Joined with the moonlight,
And the forest by night.

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