In the dark melancholy corners of abandoned buildings,
Is where the lone wolf resides.
The pack hasn't called for him in months.
The lone wolf must have been blind sided by the beautiful scenery,
Or maybe he must have been shivering from the rigid freezing void,
Who pesters the poor lone wolf, but...

Why can't the lone wolf howl to his pack?
Did someone take his tongue?
Is he afraid?
Is it the rambuncious void?

Walking in the dark green, ominous forest,
He sees birds chirping with glee,
A family of bears feeling satified,
Many small animals with mates.

Why can't the lone wolf howl with glee?
Why can't the lone wolf find his pack?
Why is the lone wolf never satified?

The moon is the lone wolf's only friend.
The moon stares at the wolf,
Keeping him company.
Yet, the bright blissful blossoming daylight burns the bit of ecstasy,
The bit of contentment that the lone wolf once had.

Why can't the lone wolf howl for his pity?
The other animals resent the wolf for his pity,
They preach of a optimistic future ahead of him.
That was two years prior to this desperate,
hopeless night.

Tonights a new moon.
The darkness engulfs the lone wolf.
He does not care as he has no purpose,
no one or nothing to live for.

Why can't the lone wolf howl?