TheVonTerrorBoy

Maybe the wolf fell in love with the moon; each month it cries for a love it will never touch; but each month it cries for its biggest love; each morning at 4 his throat gets sore; crying, howling, begging for that moon to come back. But each night it always fades away; leaving the wolf alone to only wish he was never made. Maybe the wolf fell in love with the lamb; soft and tender, the lambs heart is pure; leaving the wolf to struggle with changing his ways. To match the soft, pure, delicate lamb, the wolf must overcome his fear of hurting the lamb. He lays beside him only to watch as the lamb scurries away; leaving him lost and confused, "W