My thoughts they seem drifted.
Into a deep sleep you cannot awake.
I wish nothing but the quiet sound fo peace
but what do I get? Death and heartach.
My pack is my family and I want them to be happy
but how can when war is at our door steps.
Why can't the damned and the unholy live free.
To think more will die has brought tears where I slept.
I must not think ill, I must not give in.
Good will come out of this storm.
I'll fight till I myself will be sent to the depts.
The outcasts of this world deserve better than to be torn.
I will fight for whats right and for our freedom in this world.
Let the blood poor on the ground.
Let the drums of war be heard.
Let our howls send them fleeing from the sound.
Many will fall
but it will be worth the fight.
For the time has come for outcasts to be heard.
If you think us wrong you will feel our bite.
