In the cradle of Morpheus he draws breath like a piglet
Snorts dainty as frost and innocent as bud
Within his cocoon he transforms in endless cycle
Now a lycanthrope with throat-noise akin to beast

Zeal-juice trickles down the cheek of the shapeshifter
From his place of peace and longing for a sip
He rumbles the night away in oblivious rapture
And I caress his soul with my everlasting heart-hand