When wolfbane blooms

“Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”

On waxing full and rising high,

the moon stirs madness in my eye

and then my blood in boiling rage

sets free this monster from its cage

As evening falls and wolf bane blooms

I prowl the wood to fill more tombs.

I stalk my prey for one more kill,

And hunt down flesh with primal skill.

Through gibbous nights of waxing full

I feel the moon’s grip in me pull

a predator with raging growls

disrupts the night fearsome howls.

As evening falls and wolf bane blooms

I prowl the wood to fill more tombs.

I stalk my prey for one more kill,

And hunt down flesh with primal skill.

For god’s sake, stay away from me

as lunar cycles wax, I plea.

You must avoid my lupine cry

that echoes down the streets nearby.

As evening falls and wolf bane blooms

I prowl the wood to fill more tombs.

I stalk my prey for one more kill,

And hunt down flesh with primal skill.

I hunt until the moon descends,

And prowl until the cycle ends.

Hold out your palm for this exam,

And check it for a pentagram.