They feast upon the weak and gullible, rending them apart
They tear their ‘loved ones’ flesh, animals in the making
And leave blood in the snow of their bloodlust making
And all because to be a man they must set themselves apart
They prey upon the sickly, who fall from back the pack
And there they tear down the weak to make themselves strong
And a wolf is but an animal, and but an animal can’t be wrong
But they are men and cowards in a wolf war rear attack
Men down in the valley, who sold your souls to wolves:
I am coming from the highland, with a jawbone in my hand
And if I die in my bloodletting, I don’t give a damn
God damn me in my insolence, but I’ve come to slay some wolves
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Hey Caleb. You won the poetry contest on my blog. Could you send me your address so I can mail you the $20 gift certificate to Target, please?
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