Scratched into the surface
Written with our blood
Our ancient relatives
Made sure they were remembered.
The Book of the Moon
Sweet Lunar's Grace
Has yet to be seen
Yet to be beheld.
They carved their names
In the flesh of this masterpiece
More than just a message
But a founding of salvation.
They sang to the Moon openly
Howling with unrivaled beauty
All their triumphs and failures
As they bathed in its healing light.
All their emotions combine
Of despair, anger, pain, sorrow and hope
Collided into the melody of the night
This is what brought upon us Lunar's Grace.
It was made by the wolves, of the wolves.
And now only the wolves can find it.
this ancient script has the ultimate power
To recreate or demolish all human life.
Why did they not destroy them
when they had the chance?
Cruel fate had fallen upon them
And our ancestors died for that day.
One day our grace will be born again
And we will sing again for our destiny
Death will not catch us this time.
Wolves have lasted longest of the mammals.
Our passion and devotion to the moon
Cannot fail in this time of need
Are there enough left for us to rejoin
Or will we all stay hidden, scattered like strays?
