Wolves Poem by Blake Foxx

Quick, deadly, precise.
The ultimate hunters.
No meer being stands in
comparison to the pack.

The untamed and uncontroled,
the soul proprietors of the woods.
The single entity of many, and
the hearts of one.

The power of a single thought,
compressed into one swift
move from all. The ability
to lure and trick their prey.
The ultimate trappers...

These wolves are the
ancestors of courage, and
the soul of the world. The
gods of the paradise.

A paradise we seek for
ourselves, yet, shall never
attain.