I tire of sheepish; admire the wolf. I don't care if it's lonely, I must become so wholly wolvish; naturally free. Wolvish; eerily calm in lunacy. The feelings I get when I witness injustice Feel the same as when viewing a mountain range. And when questioning how man forms mal-intent I wonder "Might refuge exist for estranged?" I tire of sheepish; admire the wolf. I don't care if it's lonely, I must become so wholly wolvish; naturally free. Wolvish; eerily calm in lunacy. I must go Off alone in wild Where I just might escape my restraints. But what of the other? Could I endure the cold thought of Never seeing her 'gain? Though there is madness here, She is least one shining brilliance To challenge the splendour of that glorious mountain range. A care so tender it gets me rethinking My hopeless appraisals of our society. Oh, could I endure a life lived without her, in the wild? (Oh, could you be wolvish? Oh, could you become wholly the wolvish?) Would it be selfish, Or best for us all, If I become so Wholly the wolvish one?