I bow for my Queen at the high of the night.

Her sliver glows commands me;

I am her loyal knight.

My body bends and grows.

My eyes turn silver and

sharp teeth in two rows.

This curse I cannot bear,

but for Her, I have no choice;

this ugly thing I wear.

I sing Her my song with my knightly fellows,

our song is one and unites.

It is dark, full of pride in the night’s mellow.

This curse from such a Queen.

Such a beautiful queen.

A wicked Queen.

I stalk the night,

as Her loyal knight.