The wolf roams through the winter forest

pine trees laden with snow

 

The great forest has a secret place

a place where beauty lives

a place where the wolf glanced and was blinded

 

The fire burning in the secret place

burns with a fire that only consumes the heart

the soul - that which is the only reason to live

 

The wolf knew love before

love of parents, love for another -

always though, it was not truly deep,

the wolf searched for the love,

searched for another to walk by his side

to not fear the unknown, but to embrace it,

to look forward to it.  For,

like a man, every wolf dies,

but not all truly live,

nor truly loves

 

he is the last of his race, his destroyed race,

through fire and treachery,

through war and pain, he is now the last

there are others like him, but the line is forever lost now,

replaced by technology, replaced by greed, replaced by fear

 

he will grow old now, living as true as he can

the sadness, the despair is overwhelming

he can no longer rule, he can no longer conquer

for that which would give it meaning through honesty,

through vows, through dedication,

through some of the very attributes that he values,

is beyond his reach. 

He can smell it, can see it,

can look through the windows

on this cold winter's day,

can see the fair one, can see her torn,

for he knows that she can hear his cry,

their souls touched and a bond was formed,

a new soul was formed, a mixing that

can never be undone, for if one were to leave,

the other would never be complete. 

They share the dragonheart,

the fire that burns within one, burns within the other,

the fire that can never be quenched

and which can only burn stronger. 

A bond that can never be severed,

for even if their bodies never touch,

their souls will always be together

 

he has seen the beauty

and even though he knows that he can't have it

he still longs for it, still strives for it

 

the heart is heavy and the snow is heavy

both fall and keep falling through

 

He didn't start out as the wolf, nor is the world responsible

as one goes through life, one learns certain things

one doesn't really change, one just becomes more of who one is

this solitary hunter, one of the last to roam free, is forever shackled,

forever confined...not by chains nor by that which takes freedom away,

but love for her, that which gives freedom

 

The wolf remains in the shadows......ever skittish,

eyes piercing through the gloom, understanding

forever shall he roam the forest,

waiting, alone,

through the heavy snow,

for he knows that she knows how he feels.

He knows how she feels.