In full lunacy attire,
he's baying at the scornful moon.
The moon with many faces,
throughout the month of June,
The straight jacket's getting tighter.
his laughter's roaring crazily,
he's making so much noise,
they told him he was crazy,
his only last request.

To fit in with the others,
to be one of the normal boys.
he bares his teeth involuntary,
canine trapped behind the fence,
the fence of ill repute.

He lost his family years passed by,
was a traumatic road crash,
in which his kinfolk died.

Found the boy child,
hair of black,
took him to their lair,
the lupine lair of night,
and in such darkness,
did they care for the child,
for the child of the moon,
with thick black hair,
they heard him calling,
so they did.

The folk of the village also did.
they wanted rid,
called upon the powers that be,
would they release him?
let him be,
they kept him in a hospital,
a place of safety,
so they said,
no longer free,
his heart was bound,
******* with chains.

That was long, long ago,
and still we hear his howls of woe,
when the moon hangs high up in the sky,
listen very closely,
can you hear him cry?
(C) Livvi