More than life,
Less than death.
Trying to survive,
with each rasping breath,
Knowing that it may very well be my last.
The sun is bright,
and dark is night.
It makes no difference,
in the eyes of a body with a soul,
that has lost hope of returning home.
A spark of hope,
a source of hope,
from the faith of a brother in arms.
The faith of my spirit,
Burnt orange fur speckled black,
Eyes that startle,
and claws that grapple.
There are two sides,
two points of view in this story.
Two minds,
sharing the same body,
changing from one form to another.
I am the Wolf.
