Starts with a whimper, yet soon turned to a scream.
Stumbling in pain, tears fall down my face in a steady stream.
Blinded, aching, the agonizing melting of my skin.
Though I hate it, I know this is a battle I cannot win.
Werewolf against silver, earth against stone.
Changing, turning, the popping sound of shifting bone.
Flesh turns to fur, brown eye's to those of a bright blue sky.
Bound in the chains of battle, I with nothing more than to
spread invisible wings and fly.
But fate holds me, and I cannot dent this iron cage.
I try no more, as I cannot, to control my blinding rage.
And so, unbound, my blood succeeds to paint the sky red.
Last of my struggles gone, I lie here, dead in my bed.
Never to be remembered, soon to be forgotten.
And I shall lay here, now and forever, trapped in my
plated silver coffin.