The Wolf

His aria echoes within the mountains deep,

His proud voice praises the strength of beasts.

And there he stands on the mountain’s peak,

The wolf howls there on this night so bleak.

 

He serenades the autumn moon tonight,

And he bathes within her pale light.

It is the moon that bestows him might,

The dark predator basks within his right.

 

He was not always a canine feared,

For once he was human, born and reared.

But within a cursed flame, his fate was seared

And on that night, the human disappeared.

 

He left the world of man and found

A world made up of scent and sound,

A journey only took a moment’s bound,

The king of predators he was crowned.

 

Now supreme, he now reigns

All across the mountain range.

And though hexed in a way so strange,

He never found the jinx to be his bane.

 

The wolf, though lost to mankind’s door,

Has found his way into human’s lore,

He now runs across the moor,

and he will lope forevermore.

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