Upon the stone, the wolf she sits,
With amber piercing eyes.
Skin and bone, And howled pitch,
She cries as the moon is high.
Requiem for her prey,
Head held docile, with sunken teeth,
She hunts from day to day,
And kills with no reprieve.
The moon at last, it’s highest point,
Centers her canine soul.
She howls on through the night,
Giving nature her wolvesh toll.
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Comments2
A great metaphor and well written images that sends the message Nicely written
Beautiful connection to nature, easy favorite!
Thanks for the fav
Of course!
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