In the misty morn There comes a call Rising up... Chilling to the bone it is Mournful call... A lone wolf calling out Looking for her lost mate Killed by a hunter's bullet Somewhere by the lake Desperately she sends out her howl Waiting, yearning, hoping That she'll hear an answer soon Early in the misty morn She mourns silently for her fallen mate
With no pack to call her own Nothing but herself She hunkers down in the shadows Of rocks, trees and shrubs Her heart beating slowly With each breath hesitating This lone wolf's soul Slowly begins to shift