Where are the answers we are looking for? What are the questions we ask?
History may hold these answers and more, but I never lived in the past.
Seeking in vain for keys, to knowledge that I think I need
The days are turning pages, in searching for what cannot be.
The anger, intense behind my eyes in my fruitless search for the truth.
Frustration teaches me to despise the ignorance born in my youth.
Within my heart the rages and prowls a wolf of the northern steppes.
Moonlight beckons my soul to howl. For in mans twilight world I slept.
The beast of my soul, yearns to be free from the shackles that keep it inside.
Am I the wolf or has the wolf become me? No more am I able to hide.
My eyes are two way mirrors concealing the spirit within.
It stirs my mind in terror an innocent heart black with sin.
The beast of my soul yearns to be free.
Am I the wolf? Yes the wolf has become me.
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written by Ron Skeen.