Her food, expulsed from another's belly.
She waits to devour (she's the runt).
The pack is wet, cold, and smelly;
as they prowl, out on the hunt.
Their lean guts tightened from want,
they pounce - a fanged alliance;
Clenched jaws sense a pulse's chant;
the prey cries out - then silence.
The pack's reliance, ages old,
yet, not sated from the hunt;
not full, they fear the growing cold;
they turn on her - the runt.
The pack endures the violent cold,
tethered in reliance, ages old.
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| Writing Prompt |
Please write a RHYMED poem about a wolf or wolves in general.
This is a serious contest, so please no humorous entries OR poems about werewolves. POEMS WITH THESE THEMES WILL BE DISQUALIFIED.
MINIMUM 80 WORDS
MAXIMUM 170 WORDS.
NO ARTWORK ALLOWED
MAXIMUM 30 WORDS OF 'AUTHOR'S NOTES' |
Author Notes
Wolves born blind and deaf. Young are fed regurgitated food.
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