Wolves, the hunted, tormented, and badly misunderstood.
Often enemies' bullets come — evil being visited, not good.

With animals, life is instinctual, clean, people often find.
Not so destruction by rumor or planned attacks from behind.

Creatures reviled, pursued by those with a goal to just maim.
They discount facts. Their aim? To only destroy and defame.

What of the unswerving loyalty? Mates are joined until death.
Usually, mere survival is pursued with each and every breath.

One talked of throats aquiver, but what of their utter beauty
of stance and gaze? Each cry carrying a haunting memory?

You don't know me at all. When amid rumors did you try?
How could you misread my heart? The honor in my eye?

I lope through the woods now, my pack and pups at my side.
I am the wolf. Strong. And, despite everything, I still survive.

-