Whisper of the Wolf
Through shadowed woods where whispers creep,
Beneath the moon’s watchful, silver sweep,
A lone wolf glides with silent grace,
A phantom spirit in a timeless space.
His amber eyes like lanterns glow,
Tracing paths where the wild winds blow.
Paws press softly on mossy ground,
In the forest's heart, no truer sound.
The trees bow low as he strides by,
A wraith beneath the starlit sky.
Each howl, a song, both fierce and free,
Echoes of ancient ancestry.
Guardian of this sacred land,
He roams where fate and instinct stand.
A fleeting glimpse, a fleeting sigh—
The wolf, the forest, the endless sky.
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