The Wolves Path Poem by Evan Skora

The wolves of the night,
They give us a chilling fright.
They walk the path of a glorious gift,
Some being able to shift.

A wolf, what are they but creatures of the moon,
The music of the night, perfectly in tune.
Gifted the powers of the moon goddess above,
Given great strength and will out of love.

The path they walk, the path they choose,
Riddled with mystery with few clues.
The moonlight shows and the creatures dance,
Howling to the moon as if in a trance.

The dark paths they were set on,
A side of dark, a side of light, and the middle path of unchosen,
All set by the moon goddess, stuck in a game, each only a pawn,
Their lives set in stone, all their pieces frozen.

But arnt all lives planned out,
Everything that happens without doubt.
Every life in stone set out on a large playing board,
Some kill, some only live, some take the world in hoard.

Our lives, unknown to ourselves, only known by the God above,
Same as wolves, same as humans, same as all animals, made from love.
An animal, not so different from us, they need,
They want, they feel pain, they bleed.

Each and everything walking down either path,
Either down the dark, the light, or the undecided,
Some go down all, misunderstood, helpful, and wrath,
Sometimes a path one is going on gets sided.

Choose the path your on and going to go,
Stop doing everything, break the flow.
Be like a wolf, dip your feet in the dark,
Get time out to howl and bark.