Where are you, my brother in pain and blood?
So far as I know you’re alive – too smart
And cunning to let someone cut you down.
Last Harvest Moon made me recall the town
Of mad and obsessed and… well, maybe blessed
Were-humans. Our Goddess made minds a mess,
Yet feelings – delightful and light like wings.
She freed them. She freed us. From chains and links,
From all inner fears and scary scars.
We loved her, we forced the locks, broke the bars…
Well, all we were she gave us. Made us.
From felones-de-se, from ice and lies
She called our Beasts to rise.
Wherever you are, let’s sing our Goddess to wake,
However we feel, our howl costs breath it takes,
With so deep a feeling we call her, She-Pale, She-Cold,
Her silver and ivory well worth all humans’ gold.