Wolf

My condemned little cabin alone in the woods
I rock in my chair on the porch
The boards creak uneasily underfoot
And I know something moves
In the trees to the North

I grip a tin cup in my calloused hands
The smell of the whiskey singes the air
I grimace at what I feel on the wind
As the dark forest calls me near

What evil is out there in this lonesome, wild place?
What sort of evil prowls my way?

The mountain wind calls me with eager excitement
To giddy abandon under the stars
My hands grow lithe, I pulse with new life
A low earthy growl escapes my jaws

Laughing like the river
A vile, accursed beast
Cracking bones like tossed rune stones
I delight in my disastrous feast

What evil is here in these lonesome wilds?
By what ruthless hunger am I transformed?
The Moon howls through me
You will come to me
Shed your name and be reborn

What evil is out there in this lonesome, wild place?
What evil is here that I must face?

What evil is here that I must face?