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Comments about Tristan Niggemann
The Wolf King
One silent night, in winters hands,
The wolf king howled and cried,
His pack had strode through field and land,
When his merry wolf queen died.
They took a walk, in forests deep,
Went from tree to tree,
Climbed the walls and valleys steep,
But foggy winds made hard to see,
What lay beneath the paws,
Not stick nor stone, nor step,
When suddenly she clasped her jaws,
And fell into a trap.
The wind was howling with the king,
Screaming out his sad uncertain,
When the queen began to sing.
'My beloved king, I have to leave, ...