Wind blowing hard on this chilly spring night

While a man stares out his window with much spite

“Curse this vile weather” he murmurs under his breath

Glancing at the full moon, as Pale as death

Returning to his chambers, about ready to retire

He sees a figure dressed in ecclesiastical attire

In the corner of his room, where the wood stove sits

he gazes upon this figure, at a loss of his wits

“No need to introduce yourself” says the figure to the man

“I am already here, and i believe that you know who i am”

Never in his life had the man ever seen this ghostly apparition

“You’ve no right to be here!” shouts the man in his normal disposition

The figure, now standing, produces a small watch of silver from his breast pocket

“The time of your change is at hand, kind sir, and you cannot stop it”

With a great gust of wind, the figure vanishes from the chamber

Drenched in a cold sweat, the man now remembers his danger

Relighting his candles on the stone wall, he tries to remember

Of the time he met with a devil, and thus stared this indenture

The moons cold light now shines through the window

Casting shadows of the branches of from the tree outside of willow

A shooting pain takes his arm, and another moving down his spine

Doubled over now with pain, he now knows what the figure meant by “Time”

His hands now contort, turning into dreadful claws of black

His chest now expands, with enought force to break ones back

His face now elongates, his human teeth falling out

Only to be replaced with sharp canines, and a snout

His once blue eyes now rage with the fury of a great monsoon

And he curses this night, and the full phase of the moon

Bursting out the window, with a grunt and a growl

He raises his head to the moon, and begins to howl.