The Forest Prince

Yep, more wolf stuff.

White fur and deep eyes,
An angel without a disguise.
With a voice like rain and speed of the wind,
They walk the earth,
The grass beneath their feet shivers at the touch.
King of all majesty, the lord of wonder,
All others are subject to blunder.
Lo to be captured by the eyes;
Eyes of innocence that have seen so much hate,
A beauty bound by fate.
Their flesh is the earth, their song one with the sky,
Their feet are the wind in the trees,
With the soundtrack of their cry.

They are the wolves,
Paintings of black and white and brown,
Power in their eyes,
But losing their crown.
Once the king of nature; now hangs on a wall,
Soundless and lost in a world
That has already lost it all.
The wind cannot run,
The birds to not sing.
His majesty has been slaughtered in vain,
Mother Nature grieves for the pain
For the death of her son and his world, the sky and earth,
Only prints left in the dirt.

But the wind whispers in secret,
The rivers ripple by the tide;
And a day will rise when we will see those eyes,
Again.