The shrill of a howl ignites a Fox's delight,
Red! Red! Red, must confess…
Instincts aren't as wild as they seem.
They're only steps to a choreographed dance,
Underneath a natural light that has its own intensity.
The shrill of a howl ignites a Fox's delight
Red! Red! Red, must confess…
The unforeseen blends into the foliage,
Creating rays of animalistic thoughts,
Nutrients for the pigment.
The shrill of a howl ignites a Fox's delight,
Red! Red! Red, must confess…
I'm not an animal, but there is a rule,
Only the prey sleeps while predators creep,
So I have the ability to choose….
An appetite to dominate the flesh,
Or quench the red and energize the rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem