Soft white snow now covers the ground.
A female wolf treds softly back to her loving
mate.
Something warm and lovingly soft,
to cling to in her harsh world.
Life is made bearable with him,
and all is then made well.
But soon shall she know that
what she knew is lost to her.

As she returns her spirit abruptly dies,
her mate lies before her in a snowy grave.
Red streaks stain the snow around him,
leading her eye to him.
His heart which beat so fondly is
now silent within his once proud chest.
His organs which provided survival,
are spread about the scene haphazardly.
Man had taken his life.

Gentle, quiet snows drift from the sky,
so foreign it appears in the wolf's collapsing
world.
Her love is dead, and his body
stretched before her as proof.

She stands half of what she used to be,
alone, with her mate.

Lifting her white muzzle to the sky
she sings a story....
Of love, time, man, injustice, hate, death,
and of a battle of life
far beyond comprehension.

-Author Unknown-