A Wolf's Ghost

Year poem was written: 2014

The intangible fangs gnash savagely,
as if they were the biting wind.
With claws scraping across the pale soft dirt,
trudging along like a swift breeze.

It's howl echoes throughout the woods,
like a desolate cry of Death's.
As it rushes across the land of the living,
all are chilled with fear.

The barely visible creature is that of racing smoke,
hunting the spirits of prey.
It's eyes glow brightly with a menacing orange hue,
full of passion and rage.

This is the imprinted soul of,
a wolf's ghost.