The wolf’s cry upon the full moon’s eve marks it’s coming,
The shadow lurking and creeping, bent and deformed it pursues you,
The dread of seclusion captures you; mind screaming but senses numb,
Battling with dread, the sage inside you over comes it, conflict raging within you.

The taint is carried upon the wind of the midnight’s eve,
Fusing with you, the taint of decay corrupts your mortal being,
Genetics warping and war raging you are weakening, your prowess slipping,
Body frail and mind in turmoil you spirit is your last bastion.

The look of dread in the newborn’s face attacks your paranormal self,
The sage returns with wise tails of heroism and self-sacrifice,
Strength returning and the battle lines drawn, the final battle raged,
The harbingers of death repelled, all seemed won and lost.

The taste of victory is bittersweet and not long-lived,
From the shadows corruption strikes, dealing the mortal blow,
Now you wait for their return, dread encasing you, once more you wage war,
The weary sage is lost and all sanity along with him.

Now the agony has begun, the torture of time taking it’s toll,
Disease warping the body and sanity twisted to a thread of existence,
The curse of birth is realised, destiny speeding through time and space to meet you,
Now you wait, the war won and lost, death is ready to deal the final blow…