• Looking to the distempered stormclouds
    A lonely shewolf questions the growling skies
    Its justification of a heated downpour in the shrouds
    Her snow fur tinged and bristled with the chastened
    shadows of lies

    As the rolling growls carried on loudly in her ears
    Death flashed temporary blindness in her widened blue eyes
    Their hue glowed eerily electric before droplets began to smear
    Greed and Despair against her pelt, and so the shewolf fled to
    the highrise


    Disheveled and damp, she shook herself upon entering the warm home
    A simple den of security in which she laid herself to rest as the ruthless storm went on
    Curling up, she again questioned its reason for the angered drone..
    And a muffled, but bellowing response echoed honestly through the calm darkness.