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