High up on the hill
Hear the lonely cry
Bringing soulfull chill
The silver crescent moon
Slowly on the rise
Was called on for the gathering
With their haunting cries
The council is under way
Their leader now has spoken
He barks out the command
They bow their heads as token
With stealth and cunning they move
Relentlessly on the prowl
Calling to their brothers
With their eerie howl
The pack moves in circles
In their strategic, instinctive way
And together as a unit
They close in on their prey
Mysty
27-07-99©