Thoughts Of A Werewolf

I have always been a dreamer,
A poet beyond time,
Always lost in crazed emotions,
Never feeling quite sublime.

I have always been a werewolf,
As far back as I recall,
And though it comes so easily,
I can still feel it all.

I remember every moment,
Every night I've missed,
When my thoughts become another's,
Though attempting to resist.

For I cannot control it,
When I am me no more,
And I wake up in the morning,
Sprawled and blood-soaked on the floor.

Never lost and never found,
Nor failing to be blamed,
For when there's trouble all about,
The werewolf's always shamed.

An outcast from the normal,
Wild and uncivilised,
I'm constantly in fear,
And forever hospicised.

Pray do not show me pity,
For its not what I desire,
For I'll always be a dreamer,
'Til the day that I retire.

Don't feel sorry for me. I'm just a werewolf. I'm nothing compared to some out there. I neither seek your pity nor do I deserve it. Either kill me now or let me die. I don't care any more. No ones cares any more...
This is a poem and a diary entry written by Remus J Lupin after the death of his wife and son. It's quite a melancoly piece, but I think it suits the tone.
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