Poetry-Thing Thursday: White Wolf, White Wolf

White Wolf, White Wolf
the path is calling you, Wolf.
The Swallow is gone.
The winter’s to come,
and love’s violet eyes,
remain cold and numb.

White Wolf, White Wolf,
with silver and steel, dear Wolf.
The scars that you bear
are more than skin-deep,
and the path is aligned,
with frost-borne keeps.

White Wolf, White Wolf,
wraiths come today, my Wolf.
Fight for your love,
or freeze in new loss,
for the frost comes unbidden,
like it or not.

White Wolf, White Wolf,
of lands long gone and lost.
Find comfort in violet eyes,
raven hair,
black and white cloth
for the Swallow is flying,
and you’ve no choice but to watch.