The moon waxes
Forcing my soul to commit suicide
The moon wanes
Forcing my soul back to life
My sanguinary pleasures coming back,
painting the lucid moon, crimson
with no control over these claws of mine.
This disease that infects me so,
cursed because I believe my own lies.
when I can't even sigh
out of my own relief, doomed to lie
Don't miss me
with the silver bullet
just kill me please
come slay this beast within me
My eyes see whats happening
but theres nothing I can do.
If I howled would it even matter.
I shiver, under the layers of snow, in which I hide
This isn't me (Its so cold)
This isn't me (I don't care)
This isn't me (Why am I so afraid)
This just isn't me
Aaahh the beast within, changing us against our will, cannot block it, but can learn to run with it, to partially direct its forces, to run with other wolves and howl together, woo woooo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So vivid and wonderfully horrific. I love it.