With whetted whistle and keen eyes alight,
Our prodigal Wolf Cub is on the prowl.
His cause is noble, his spirit is bright;
Choice pickings to be cleaned up by towel.
Such Moody Love! What Forbidden Desire!
If only Wolves were made to live as men.
But Alack, he's forced to live through a wire;
The Web can never replace a wolf's den.
When does the ban come, O Wolf among Wolves?
When do your nymphets give up their sweet sway?
Cruel sobs wrack us when your posting dissolves,
Crueler still, for you to leave us this way.
If this be error; Pedobear disproved,
Wolf never writ, nor no cub ever loved.