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.
A secret horror I must bare,
Until it ends the full moon glare.
My only sense for breath.
As I hunger more and more for,
As they run and they scurry,
Across the village I sight,
The one who wields the moonlight,
To bring the wolves into men,
Turning angels into flies,
My blood doth she command.
Joined with the moonlight,