• The wolf's howl pierces the night skies
    as we slumber to its lullaby's.

    The blanket of black becomes scaters with little white and blue dots.
    And you hear the voices of the forgotten.
    The voices of the lost.
    They run threw your hair, and the dance with the dust.

    They muffle the sounds of footfalls,
    and they hide the imprints of paws.

    They scream when the dark clouds block the sunlight.
    and they whisper when the night sky is lite with a blue clear moon,
    with the stars dancing around them.

    The cause fear for some
    but shelter for others.

    They guide you away from something bad.
    And bring you something good.

    The voice we feel and hear have so many names.
    yet none at all.