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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #1908605
A poem with a meaning of your own making
A gaunt and forlorn black wolf, set his gaze upon the moon. Formidable it was, red and round, look back down at the creature with distain. The wolf only yearned for the advarice things in life, for he never understood that life was not as frivolous as such lust. For material things lead to dust. So, he could only gawk at the round ruby in the sky, sulking and wondering " Why can't I?"
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1908605-The-grim-wolf-and-odious-moon