• The people don't know
    The people don't feel
    The people don't understand
    Our form is too great

    The night air wraps around us
    Running outside is a must
    We run to our heart's desire
    Never really getting tired

    We hear our bones crunching
    The sweet release that follows
    As we shapeshift into the form
    That people fear the most

    The smells around, no sound of humans
    Both are great joys and pleasures
    We love the fur that bristles over
    The claws that prove we are hunters

    We will finally flee
    Humans far behind
    Our furs in flying colors
    I desire this time.