Wolf, by Raymond Liang

The far reaches of snow ladden paths dare not breath
If they would, surely the mountains would shed their tears
In the dark caves of these great mounds bear much burden
A wolf
Alone but unafraid

He is an outcast
Forsaken and forgotten
When the Sun reigns, he sleeps and dreams of red and violet
Bathed in moonlight, he hunts and devours nightmares
Howling he shakes the foundation of the world

As one looks upon his form
One dares not look away
A white coat of silk decorate his hide
Blink
And he is gone, lost to time