Wolves

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It's such a simple type of beauty, 

Almost feral, 

The way their silky coats ruffle in the air, 

Their swift paws drumming against the earth. 

Wild eyes darting through the underbrush searching, 

Their jaws widening as they sing 

Their mournful song to the moon. 

Oh, how sorrowful their wails 

As they flash through the night 

Searching in the pale moonlight. 

Don't let it deceive you, 

All wolves are drunk and driven by the devil's hunger. 

 

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