Black Wolfskin

In these deep winter sun rests

O'er hill, field and ice

Vex splinters hunters.

The prey runs and dies.

They know who does kill

In these cold winter nights

For prints in blood spread

O'er the withering heights.

Blood sprays from the throat.

Joints crunch under teeth.

No stain on his coat

Of black, silken and neat.

Eyes white lain on black

Like two moons with thin cracks

For the soul to see through.

Peering daggers look at you.