The lone wolf runs
wherever he may please,
released as leaves from trees.
Carried aloft by winds that blow
gently carressing the earth below.
The lone wolf strides
to the edge of rock with pride
no man nor fear from which to hide.
Only seeking for something new,
to quench his thirst for feelings true.
The lone wolf paces,
his journey is winding and long,
no others to join his nightly song.
And so he questions his rebel choice,
the pain is clear in his howling voice.
The lone wolf lies down.
Crossing paws and closing eyes;
accepting his fate, alone he dies.