She howls to the moon,
Permitting her overwhelming emotions
To flood out of her heart,
In a huge rush of misery,
Engulfing everything around her
In one desperate, anguished, inconsolable cry of sadness.
She cries to the moon,
Hidden in a dense forest of trees,
As her distressed, wretched howl echoes
Through the mass of green silent life,
And up into the twilight, glassy lake of stars,
In a peal of distraught sorrow.
Howl, all alone, howl away your grief,
For soon, though you do not know it yet,
You will howl yourself out, wail
Until you are but a faint breeze, an echo,
The only recollection of your solitary existence.
Your silent weakness will hold you back,
But patiently wait, regain your strength,
Build up your voice,
For when you howl once again,
You will be stronger than ever before;
The power of your cry
Will astound and daze
The entire world.
