Wolves, Wolves, ready to fight,
Under moonlit skies at night,
Liquid silver that gown thee,
Who dare diminish such beauty?

Deep beneath riddles and lies,
Who dare dull their cleaver eyes?
What knife he dare brandish and shine,
To spill the liquid as red as wine?

Deceiving and cleaver they are,
Obsidian eyes shine, black as tar,
Hidden under a cloak of light,
Yet soul as obscure as the night,

Wrapped neatly in ethereal lies,
Cunning mind perceived in the eyes,
Weaving the sirens eerie tune,
Merged with howls to the moon.

Leaves leaping, swaying to the sound,
In the distance a baying form a hound,
The moon lured by the ghostly song,
Bringing the waves crashing along.

Wolves, Wolves, ready to fight,
Under moonlit skies at night,
Liquid silver that gown thee,
Who dare diminish such beauty?