First moon, I go to hunt. Two bites, not too soon.
I will repeat it.
Second moon, I go out to roam. One bite, no alarm.
They cannot last.
Third moon, I’m running till noon. Can’t ressist the red.
No moon, I can’t go out. Sudden sence of doom.
I am not sure if I can bleed.
I will go out, the town will drown.
Vague memories of poems with roses.
Where is my moon?!
They come with torches. Nothing else to do than burn.
Ash to the wind, they feed uppon my scream.
I will endure it, the moon is bound to show herself.
Sing for the dream, howl and scream!
The moon is pale and their dance must fail.
I dare to live again!