Can you witness the lips of the wolf’s loneliest cry?
He is calling from the forests from a place so high
Turning the senses in all directions to be wild again
Shedding the skin from the outside to the soul in pain
Dusk descending upon the brow of the mortal spirit
Raise a hand to bring down the nights velvet blanket
Timeless decree for the wanderer of silver and black
From the dark as eyes pierce the chilling airs attack
Hearing the voice of the spirit calling deepest throes
Summoning to the dark place where the monster goes
Bad memories reflected on hillsides of mists and time
Drifting down to tingle the senses in a cordial crime
That I maybe naked before the wolf or be their prey
Feasting upon this spirit and nourish upon the grey
When all the colours fade to the monochrome dream
Remembered in stills or of floating memories stream
Amongst the trees witnessed to so many generations
Pulled down to forever walk under such gravitations
But quickly go as huntsman gun rings sound of fear
Though a cry of the wolf doth reap in such a revere
Placement of paws in snow where one doth tread
In a night for the doe walking in fear and dread
To be so beautiful in a majestic predatory alliance
With the night as the cape of disguise and violence
With blood stained lips so bore witness to the kill
And bred for the cold nights hunt or for the thrill?
To disappear again into the greys of deepest mist
Before the embrace of death and the loneliest kiss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem