The Lone Wolf

Alone on the edge
A black wolf stands
Awaiting the return
Of his pack - of his friends

The white moon shines
He howls a song
Of his sadness;
How he led them wrong

He lays on the edge
He whimpers alone
Perhaps like this cliff
He too, should be stone

His heart is heavy,
No one will return
One last song –
A song filled with yearn

He gets on his paws
He walks down the bluff
Not once did he think
Letting go would be tough

But what's that on the wind?
His lament coming forth,
Being sung by his pack who
Return from the north

Despite his old age
He runs to greet them
His heart dances and sings...
He will no longer condemn

For his pack is alive;
They are not dead
He can sleep in peace
And perhaps, a tear, he will shed

He leads them all:
The old and the young
No matter the age
They are together as one

They are safe in the pack,
They hunt and they play
But the lone wolf...he
Will never forget that day