The Lone Wolf Dies but the Pack Survives


They say 'the lone wolf dies,
but the pack survives', for
 it is true
when winter strikes and cold winds blow
and cover the ground with snow
The pack runs strong
While the lone wolf is left
To rue the day he was born

When cold creeps from frozen lakes
and grips warmth in its frozen fingers        
The pack shares the fire in their blood
Never fearing cold's wrath
While it devours the lone wolf in its furry

When time freezes hard and food is scarce
Desperation for nutrition is vast
The pack stands true and together
For each is the strength of the pack,
The pack, the strength of each one

What of the lone wolf, the unfortunate soul!
Born in a strong pack, with eyes for adventure
Deceived by the taste of poisoned freedom
As treacherous as the last day of autumn

The child of summer, seer of happy days
Now all he knows is longing and loss
and the saying of the old:
'The lone wolf dies but the pack survives'
He lies down knowing that he has no pack

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