I stand in night steeped darkness beneath a full moon of silver light that cuts the soul before an ocean with no name in a wind that
reeks of salt and speaks with silence, the tide rolling out, the grinding roar of shells in their sullen millions, and do you know that
there within the dark shroud of my cloak, my lupine face twisted into a snarl, upon the tips of my slavering canines I-
The word was there, and now it's gone.