Wolves Of The Bitter Night

A chilled wind blows across the plains,
to others,
things seem strange.

Our pack is small,
but we survive,
where others would shrivel and die.

We are wolves,
flesh and bone,
but accuse us of no feeling,
and you are dead wrong!

When bitten,
we do hurt,
at this you take pleasure,
yes we see your smirk!

Be for-warned of your deadly ways,
for each person's deeds,
someone pays.

Get used to it for the rest of your days,
this pair of wolves are here to stay!

Hurt unjustly,
that we have,
you rip out our hearts,
and we are called savage?

Come now,
you surely must know,
that you are the one without any hope.

For we have each other,
to lean on each day and night,
yet from us you run and hide.

We are the hunted pack,
surviving in the night,
growling,bearing our teeth,
at what you call right...

By: Eric Farmer