I live my life in between twenty-eight days
when everything I am disappears in a daze
vicious cycle in the cursed transformation
that makes living my life pure damnation.
Oh how I dread that night of full moon
with silver the only fear I’m not immune
when nothing else would take my life
bullets will not do neither a sharp knife.
But pain I feel in every bone and in my skin
with silver light transforming all within
and howl I must when I feel a call of wild
with every cell into a new life compiled.
Run, I run through woods away from all
escaping the insanity of a need to maul
beating flesh for a sweet taste of blood
while trashing though the grass and mud.
There is no end to this cursed existence
and with every life I take without resistance
I curse myself into another night of hell
hoping for a silver bullet to end the spell.