O why must they
Hate the wolfman
Have I been so
Truly unkind
For craving
The poise and
Beauty
And the hunger
Burned
Into my mind
My heart growls
Pangs of
Passion
I can smell
The moon drawing
Me near
To the place
Of My
Dark obsession
And I howl because
You aren't
Here
Take then
The bullet of
Silver
Press the gun
Into my chest
That I may be free
Of this love
Lost curse
And at last
Put my soul
To rest
©Barney Cissell
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