(no subject)

[errantepoch]

the wolf hunts
but it doesn't know its reason
it only knows its hunger
its prey in any season

running thru frozen meadow snows
life runs on as on it goes
rabbits, squirrels, and forest does
whilst the wyld wind blows

tracks in powder slowly drift
they lend credence to our hunters run
it only knows its sport
its blustery winter fun

running thru frozen meadow snows
life eeks on as on it goes
rabbits, squirrels, and forest does
whilst the wyld wind blows

its movements deft
its charge is quick
thru underbrush thin
thru sagebrush thick

running thru frozen meadow snows
life slides on and on it goes
conies, falcons, and forest does
whilst the wyld wind blows

its strike has landed
aim quick and true
predatory passion
under the night sky of blue

scurried shadows interplay
dancing night follows stilted day
the hunter strikes quicker sleeker
the hunt is won, by moonlit rays
and on his prideful belly lay
our gory glory seeker