Decade of so many moods so tail only one

Tale of a brigadier to a general

Shadow to a darker light

Little Wolfgang to having his own wolf-pack

He only howl sometimes, most times he slink slicks with his new guard

He the avant of the sLums but not always so.

Stolen novel; please report.

Sixth metamorphosis,

From the sea nymph, the dark, the pink, the blurs, the feet

Even the stint in the sarcophagi where he was denied gold but came out coinin’ terms

Denied the soul’s currency but came out with golden veins

Silver-tongue eloquence eclipses the without

Find it within seeking solace in little Wolfgang’s feet of clay.