Veil of the Wolf Poem, by gray0328, at My poetic side

He watches the world through slivered glass,

a predator stitched from shadows and wind.

The night folds itself around his frame,

a hymn to the patient art of waiting.

There is a hunger keening in his chest,

a silent drumbeat, ancient and howling.

Her silhouette slips through streetlight pools,

unaware of the storm curling beside her.

Each step she takes, an invocation—

a whisper to the moonlit marrow of him.

The pavement hums beneath her heels,

a countdown he marks with his breathing.

He does not strike until the world softens,

until silence is a lover on his lips.

Her breath catches; he tastes her fear,

a salt-slick promise both bitter and wild.

What he takes is not just her weight,

but her name, her time, her laughter.

The world forgets her in the blink of dawn,

but he keeps her folded beneath his ribs.

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