He was a cursed wolf
Who was betrayed by the fate
Filled with melancholy
He carried too much hate
For himself and the world
But he made her his escape
A woman herself a misery
Couldn't ease out his pain
But he sought comfort
In her withered presence
A dime a dozen, her
Worth was measured
In the silence of his gentry
She submitted in his presence
For his aura had always been so tense
And when he would shift into his wolf
She'd see the loving mate
Whom she always misunderstood
YOU ARE READING
Silent Cries Of The Night
PoetryIt's a collection of few poems that I've written . The story book cover picture I took from Pinterest. Readers are welcome to share their thoughts and ideas.
