The moon is on the rise.
All the stars have filled the skies.
But the wolf ignored your cries.
Messages get lost, sometimes.
On his evening meal he dines,
then he's gnawing on the rinds.
They say that good things come in nines
and even lows will have their highs.
For the eagle in the skies
questions not what fate decides
and though the fox wears a disguise,
you must not care to hear his lies.
Although you think, he never tries;
he's ******* eggs while he confides
and you've already heard his lines.
You know you're leaving just in time.
Deep in your eyes, my heart still lies,
forever changing with the tides.
For every story has two sides
but who is it who will decide?