The Time Of The Wolf

Rotted trunks in the infinity

Trunks are moss-grown

Branch plaited in embrace

Dance of icy wind

Among sleeping woods

Covers up lonely wolf's track

Wild and lonely wolf's track

I sweep animal's cold eyes

Over deadly scenery of wood

Under shiny grey fur

There are lethal white fangs

Welcomes silver fullmoon in the night

I smell by the wind

Scent of the blood

My vision becomes sharper

I am like a wolf

My hearing receipts

Inauddible whispers from beyond

My spul is howling to the moon

My body took over

Inhumen nibleness

My mind are full of lust

I am like a wolf