The Humble Hunted
Immigrants immersed in snow
Flakes of dreams slip from their eyes
The dark forest stands behind them
And ravenous red-eyed wolves howl
Their necks stiffen in thoughtless fear
The night shines stars in the horizon
The cold freezes their frightened fingers
They chant prayers in desperation
But the old blessings never arrive
The wolves strike their trembling faces
The moon mutes their coughing cries
Copyright © Alex Roth | Year Posted 2014
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