Hungry, are the wolves that stalk
a winter's frozen lake.
Howling such unearthly sounds,
and keeping us awake.
Silhouetted in the moonlight,
they come and circle 'round.
The lake becomes an icy grave
for the prey that they have found.
They are hunting for survival,
the competition's keen,
with the Grisly Bear their rival,
a snarling mass of mean.
Nightmares fill the eyes of those,
whose time is all but gone.
The hope of life has faded now,
the end will come along.
We've seen the truth and ugliness
of Nature's cruelest call.
I watched through my binoculars;
a witness to it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.