Wolves From The Fog

Hear the howling…
Narration:
As the light falls and darkness paints the sky in black, a
cold Moon shines
and the red somber eyes awake, the forest whispers..Oh! Whis-
pers my
unholy name,
from a frozen Mist I rise, I, Wolf, rise!
And my brothers will attack under this blood sign…

Wolves from the fog will join in a nocturnal operetta.
When the wind sounds bohemia and the trumpets loud bacanal.
Oh! Fausts and ninfs the joy of Nahima, Mistress of the Sab-
bat.
Soon we’ll be embraced by our father – the one with horns.
Satan is rejoicing in pleasure destroying the shapes of flesh.
… and once again from the fog, with horns on head came the
Wolf carrying in is shoulder the sacrifice,
a beauty to this Walpurgis Eve.
As, to the somber image of our God, the Wolf with Horns I walk!

(Spring 1992)