The Howling

The doleful sound echoes in length
as this unrestrained outcry is often misunderstood.
Only the moon never ceases to listen
to such mournful lullaby played by us wolves.

Fangs and blazing eyes are quintessence
of a ravenous creature ever to offer unlikely grief.
Since men and predators alike
are equal substance of nature’s cruel reality.

We are all being judged by the cover
and inner voice of such outer scenes are neither heard.
Ever deceived by the foul smell of our fur
disregarding the kindness within our skin.

Often in solitary endless journey
towards survival
against the cruel nature of our habitat,
I rest my case.