2 November 2012
I yearn for the hunt,
My name it calls,
Under pale moonlight,
Over darkened moors.
I long for the chase,
Prey in my sight,
None shall find peace,
In the deep black night.
My coat thick and grey,
Taut muscles beneath,
Wide ambers eyes and a mouth
Full of ravenous teeth.
If the moon is full,
Do not trust in a hope,
You life is at the whim of
A hungry lycanthrope.
Lycanthrope • Opuss № I