The timberline fades behind me
The higher I head up the mountain
The sun sets slowly towards the west
The temperature drops lower

Darkness soon prevails around me
The sweet ecstacy of nightfall
When the forest grows silent
Drowning out my internal screams

At the apex of the mountain I stand
Looking out over the mountain range
Dotted with the lights of human souls
Living their lives in ignorance to my pain

High in the sky, that empty yellow eye
Staring back into my soul
Raking its sight across my blackened soul
I pull my head back and bay in frustration

Up here, the air is thinner and colder
Icy fingers of suffocation reaching for me
Yet clawing hard for a leverage death cannot find
I survive each day without a struggle

Beyond the timber line, life is solitude
Alone in a thundering crowd in the middle of nowhere
All of my own making – my own private hell
Here, above the timber line

Hear the cry of the Lone Wolf in the night
His cry is his only answer to the Moon
Harsh mistress of solitude and loneliness
Caressing the Lone Wolf’s cries through the night

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