Can you write me a poem about Werewolves, in the style of the Volupsa from the Poetic Edda?
Sure! Here's a poem about werewolves in the style of the Volúpsa from the Poetic Edda:

In ancient times, when the moon was full and bright,
The wolf came out to play. With howls and fierce growl,
It challenged all who dared to meet its gaze.

But those who knew better kept their distance,
For they knew that the wolf held no remorse or shame,
Its hunger for blood only growing stronger each night.

So they hid away in fear and watched as it prowled,
A monster beyond reason, with no regard for life or right.
But one day, as the sun began to set,
The wolf appeared once again, its eyes ablaze with red.

And with a fierce scream, it lunged at its prey,
Tearing flesh from bone, leaving behind nothing but death.
The villagers turned on each other then,
Fear driving them to acts of violence and hate.

But some remembered what the wolf had once been,
A creature born of love and magic, with a heart so true.
They searched for the wolf, hoping to save it from harm,
Their quest filled with hope and courage, like the rising of the dawn.

And though the wolf may have changed, its soul remains pure,
A reminder that even the most dangerous creatures can be tamed.
For in the end, we are all just one thing,
A human being, struggling to make sense of this strange world.

So let us remember the wolves of old,
With their tales of bravery and sacrifice,
And let us learn from their example,
To face our fears with open hearts and boldness too.

For in the end, there is no greater power than love,
And the wolf, who once was feared and alone,
Now stands among us, a symbol of strength and courage,
A reminder that we must never forget our heritage.