Literature
Lone Wolf
In my dreams, I see a wolf.
She is my soul.
She pads across the shadow dappled forest floor,
Silent and prowling.
She raises her muzzle toward a bright, full moon,
And my soul cries out.
Seeking a mate and friends,
A pack she can call her own,
A place to call home.
Then she stalks on,
Seemingly forever alone.
Teeth bared and hackles raised,
Her shining eyes lock mercilessly onto the path ahead.
Even alone,
She must stand and face whatever the future may hold