Ron Koppelberger
Ravaged in Distant Wood
Guided in balanced symmetrical advance, measured by the parentage of full moons and indigo frayed skies the wolf raved and tore across the distant horizon. It touched and gave birth to the forethought of gossamer veils in secret hunts and shadowy opus. The wolf ravaged and willed the sustenance of love, life and blood, he willed the wild beasts of prey, willed the animal in mesh with the invisible pull, the pull back to human vesture. What if, he thought, what if I remain in the copse of the wild wolf; in havens assured by the breed of borne will, he wondered what if he remain in the shape of a wolf. In passion he faltered as he always would as he fell to the tattered vagabond existence that willed human form. Thus ravages succumb to the will of god by the fading sun at night.
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