Sonnet I: The Wolf

A grace so suave and eyes a burning gold;

A pelt snow white and a howl that will thrill;

Make up the voice of a spirit so bold

And a ripping snarl through the night to chill.

A wild creature not to be trifled with,

Yet a beauty so gentle nonetheless.

They can be savage then randomly blithe,

And continue to care for all the rest.

They are untamed, they belong to no one,

And they fight for life against our own kind.

They live for freedom that can't be undone,

And they never leave a member behind.

They survive weather from so hot to mild

Do beasts that are the spirit of the wild. 

The End

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