"Lycanthrope"

He cries and he bleeds and he dies inside,
Replaced with the face of the beast he can't hide.

The sun sets inside and he knows it is time. 

Walls forever closing in 
All he can do is drown in river of tears,
Or pound into those confines to escape his nightly fears
Of what he can become when he closes his eyes:
The monstrosity emerging when the insanity flies.
And so he cries and he bleeds and he dies inside. 

He'd scream out his lungs in vain attempts at self-control,
but suppression of aggression is repression of the mind,
he'd tell the world but all the words would all be lost,
For confession of depression is the obsession of our time.


"Please, God, just let me win"
But nobody was listening,
For God, as well, may sin,
For In forgotten times before his fate was set in stone:

~
The curse of the ancients consumes him.
He will in vain try to resist.
Only sweet amber sunrise forgives him,
Only then may his spirit persist.
~

But now the sun sets insides and he knows it's his time.
A final lonesome tear falls to the soaking floor,
And he bid's now another bitter goodbye.