Always a Wolf...
Bloodstained paws beat the earthen path,
Surviving relics of the human wrath.
Ancient songs hit the night,
Grieving the loss of yet another fight.
The olden peace man forgot,
Hasn't yet been left to rot.
For in the soul of every wolf,
The memories shall not loaf.
Back before the words were learned,
The wolves had respect well earned.
They never took more then they should,
And helped whatever they could.
Man took it all,
And let them fall.
They destroyed the land,
And moved the sand.
The wolf watched from his den,
Trying to avoid the thieving men.
With all his heart and soul he knew,
That his greatest fear was true.
His world would die.
And however he'd try,
This he couldn't save,
No matter how much he gave.
Slowly- his species began to expire,
And the wolves had a single desire-
To survive 'till the end,
So they could give what there was to lend.
And as the moon rises above,
You can feel their ancient love.
They shall save our days,
And they shall work without our praise.
They are the wolf,
And they are here...
by Olga Yatsenko ©2005