The lone wolf howled.
He lamented of his days,
the coldness of the night,
the hotness of Sun's rays.
He'd had a pack before,
Oh, how he missed them now.
His brothers, sisters, mother, father,
If only they could meet for a day.
It was just so easy then.
The hunt to take down the moose.
It took a team, if only he knew.
If only he knew when he'd gone.
The wolf was a wanderer now.
As a pup he'd been quite carefree.
But now all grown up, he had to be cautious.
There were more responsibilities these days.
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My Poems
PoetryPoems I've written when the muse strikes~ All these poems are original, and an expression of how I felt at the moment. Quite a few of these are old, and many were posted on Gaia on my account.
