The Wolf

And once upon a time,
Began a lore so divine,
Of a spirit, who traversed the woods,
To seek her lover of ages,
In her realm of living deads,
She strode on the thorny beds,
No mortal eye could see,
The yearning soul,
Or her feet that bled,
They say that spirits,
Don't feel the pain,
But her unseen frame,
Was drenched in the teary rains
She reposed every night,
Bathing in the Moon's celestial light,
Praying for her beloved dream,
In the hills or the Holy Springs,
They say, her spirit,
rests in the wolves,
her wailing unrest,
is still heard, from the depth of the forests.......

(c) S.S