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Roaming into the night he searches out prey,
with only
the pale moon to light his way.
His heart pounding as he spots his
victim,
gracefully he moves, as in a dance of rhythm.
His savage eyes
focused on his kill,
the thirst for blood must once again be filled.
He
moves swift like the northern wind;
his prey knows death has come for
him.
Only the full moon is out to view the site,
for all creatures know,
wolves come out at night.
Walkers of the dark, you can hear the howls.
Speaking in
their language, deep vicious growls.
Night beckons to them to come forth
like a spirit,
for within the night, their savage instinct knows no
limit.
They kill from hunger and kill for gain,
unmoved by the cries of
the sacrifice's pain.
Eyes fixed, with blood running cold,
they come from
every moiety, their stride proud and bold,
never fearing any stronger
opponent in the fight,
for all creatures know, wolves come out at night
