Ficly

The Song of a Wolf.

His eyes a crystal blue,
His coat as white as snow,
He sings into the night,
Why, we do not know.

It’s carried on the wind,
It echoes through the trees,
It purifies the air,
You feel it in the breeze.

The sound a shout for help,
perhaps a lonely cry,
There’s one thing that we know,
The song will never die.

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