Wolf
It is that, that of the predator to which runs the wild.
That to which roams the mountains wild.
It is the cry you here in the night.
Not just that of the hunt but that of which is a cry for life.
It’s there in their heart to which the spirit takes control.
To which they live to kill but love with honor and control.
It is that of its instinct to survive as they fight with fierce.
It is of their life they must survive as they find that mate and run abroad.
It is of the spirit to which cries loud.
As they play in the meadows grass running wild.
It is of his survival in life to which he finds that one of a howl.
That of a growl as he howls in the moons from mountain sides.
That of many journeys he stands in the journey.
As he has lost love from that of the pack and his heart cries out.
It’s there they run the prairies wild with spirit guiding them through.
The wolf’s howl and growl as you hear the cries.
It’s that of death but survival they strive.
That of many howls the spirit soars free.
As you hear them ring out them canyon walls.
That of hurt and love to which fills the air.
But that of great beauty do I love hearing their howl.
But that of the wolf to which stands with pride.
It is that from with in the wolf stands to survive.
As without heart there would be no life.
But in him, the spirit soars free as he is dedicated to forever love in life.
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