We all heard the parable
“Inside you there are two wolves, one is love one is hate”
And we are supposed to decide the winner of their brutal battle
Whichever one we feed is the one who prevails
And that makes it sound so simple
That we must be standing on some balcony throwing fine steaks to wolf love
And wolf hate would quickly wither away
But that is not the case
I am in the snow, stood in the middle of the bloody circle they plod endlessly
Handheld fast to my own beating heart
They want it
Both starved and bitter cold
It is not a fight of the wolves between them
It is between them
And me