A black prayer reveals my fate.
I stink from sorrow,
slick,
and not too late.

Transmuted lycanthropy of dating.
I ware, these clothes
I bear,
These hopes,

Less traveled road,
To my heart
You have not walked.
But carved as much,
Took out as such,
As someone ever could.

I wanted to be longed,
As wood is carving touch,
May have been nailed as hard,
While you just stared,
Until you couldn't watch.