A flood of darkness sweeps into its heart as it again sees itself in the lake,
Heart pounding hard as it sniffs the air in contempt of the hunter’s knife.
Pain and confusion spirit past all the defenses it had to their kind of stake,
And it quickly realizes how much danger this put to his very life.
The moon behind it, its howl can be heard for miles and miles all around,
A mournful cry of death; whether for himself or his hunter none knows.
The hunter enters the clearing silently, his footfalls never make a sound,
Yet the wolf’s bristling fur in the shining moonlight arrogantly glows.
No hunter is the match of this wolf, the dark eyed monster of the night.
Even as this misled hunter aims at his unholy target, the night round him coils,
For the entirety of the wolf is lit ablaze with a thousand torches’ light.
As the hunter looks at the lightless eyes, with blood his shirt he soils,
And even while the wolf mourns killing yet again the next hunter comes,
Drinking the scent of human blood like listening to the sound of deep drums.