I long to part my lips and hear my cry,as strong,as long,as beautiful as my soul speaks
I am Her and She is me
A spiral not understood,with no end,no beginning
She is wild,while I've been told that I am tamed
But who can deny that even the most docile dog longs for the night above,her voice strong on the wind,limbs sweetly tired?
Who can deny that every dog is no more tame then it's ancestors,but simply choses to live in the human world?
Does every dog feel this rending so strongly?
Does every man?
The woods don't seem to whisper to them,call to them,pull at the fringes of their soul-forms
But caring for those who do not heed or do not hear keeps me here
Keeps me wolf in a human's body,wolf in the dog's clothing.
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