why berate the sable night?
why run about, fiery with love,
howling at the frigid moon?
it is futile.
why walk dark dartmouth
forest paths dreaming of a little
red riding girl to possess?
it is vanity.
why watch the heavens for a sign
of a coming messiah-paramour
who will love you fang for claw,
measure for measure?
no sign will be given.
do not lose faith; wait; endure
unto the end and you will be saved.