Howl at the moon, lone wolf.
For your anger fuels your cry.
Left to roam, but without a home.
Your voice echoes to the sky.

Howl at the moon, lone wolf.
For you have left the pack.
Prideful and strong, you refuse to follow.
And for you there's no turning back.

Howl at the moon, lone wolf.
For the forest will spread fear.
Late at night, with no hope in sight.
Your call will catch their ear.

Howl at the moon, lone wolf.
The blood flows through your core.
The flesh of your enemy torn to shreds,
Leaves you only wanting more.

So howl at the moon, my dear lone wolf.
For it's they only way you know.
You'll cry to the unforgiving sky.
And never find where to go.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.