Werewolf

I tasted bitterness on your lips,

So young and you already walk a path of sin

Without looking back, I know you don’t cry

When blood stains your hands;

Only in those times when

Silver bars lock you inside of your pen.

Beloved moon son,

Your howl echoes into the night

And your wild heart holds nothing back

Tell me, when midnight falls and the moon shines bright

Whose blood will stain your hands?