Gone are the days of the lone wolf’s cry,

Gone is the stare of his green-gray eyes,

Gone are the howls in the moonlit night,

The wise old wolves are gone from our sight.

On a grassy hilltop I used to sit,

And think till the sunset would gleam,

Then along came a wolf with a sorrowful mask,

And there he taught me how to dream.

At first I was scared of this graceless beast,

With a coat the color of stone,

But out of his snaps came a humanly sound,

And he taught how to be alone.

As time went on, I saw in this beast,

A nature of light so pure,

And beneath the coat and claws of flint,

A reason that seemed most obscure.

I was thrown from my distant home,

Stumbled out and cast into the mud,

Then I met this wolf, most valiant of dogs,

He sustained me with flesh and blood.

But gone are the days of the lone wolf’s cry,

Gone is the stare of his gray-green eyes,

Gone are the howls in the moonlit night,

The wise old wolves have made for a flight.

We walked along the paths with the wind at our backs,

The forest glowed green in the rays of the sun,

Then he’d open his mind, a whirlpool of thoughts,

And explained to me the world of one.

He left perfect paw prints in the finest of dust,

They tracked through the woods so deep,

We came upon a vista, the fairest of places,

But then the wolf started to weep.

Big crystal droplets salted the earth,

His pointed snout whiffed the air,

Then he let out a howl so sweetly saddened,

And then told me why I should care.

He looked to the skyline; it was veiled in smoke,

I swear it was different before,

The lush meadows were barren and trees cut away,

The very sight made my heart sore.

Now gone are the days of the lone wolf’s cry,

Gone is the stare of his gray-green eyes,

Gone are the howls in the moonlit night,

The wise old wolves have endured our plight.