I Am The Wolf of the Steppes

So how has this bourgeois class saved you And how has it summoned your debts to disappear Beneath daguerreotypes of emotional degradation Of your youth? How have you been coping Since I left you naked in the dark Aimlessly wandering among the blankets That laugh at your sorry statuesque? Will you be willing to embrace me once more Even if hate dictates haste In maneuvering words To vanish ideas that I so long to hear? Or will you be just as scared as before To look into my eyes And utter lines of admiration Of how I frantically let go of death? You are no less a wolf than I And forever will you suffer Only to shed into dregs all over again In this life of sanguineous solitude.