the grey wolves come for me

the grey wolves come for me,

they howl from far off hills, the unseen fear,

they prowl on velvet paws upon a velvet darkness,

lurking,

skulking,

a threatening storm that gathers,

then gathers more and more,

a relentless rage that rises up

in towering threats,

a storm that is always nearing,

always leering,

but still it never does arrive,

and thus it never passes by,

just an ever angry sky,

a seething sneer of freezing breath,

with frosted ash upon its fur,

the grey wolves that hunt the darkening day,

they come, they come,

they near, they near,

in an ever tightening noose,

this pack of heartless hangmen,

that ride in upon distant thunder,

to snatch the courage from my soul,

as I dare try to hold my mortal place,

my feeble grip upon this earth,

I will survive!

I must, I hope,

and though I will, I surely will,

but still the wolves, they growl,

the wolves, they flash their frightening fury,

the wolves,

the grey, grim-reaping wolves,

who hunt my soul forever.

 

 

The End

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