Wolves

Since I didn't have any ideas, so I decided to post the poem that I wrote and recited in class today.
It's called wolves.
                                          The wolf sits on the lonely rock,
                                          Its amber eyes gleam like gold,
                                          As though it will soon talk,
                                          And sing of tales by men untold.
             
                                          His howl echoes through the air,

                                           Aye! For this is wolf-speak,

                                           The howl makes the air tear,

                                           A dozen wolves come out, their fur sleek.

                                          They sense the lonely elk's blood,

                                          It was wounded by a bear,

                                           The odor hits them like a flood,

                                           Their hunger is more than they can bear.

                                            They run after it, like mad hounds,

                                            The elk knows its doom has come,

                                             They leap upon it, one bites, the other pounds,

                                               Their prey cannot even run.

                                                The elk is now a mangled corpse,

                                                Its steamy entrails laying on the snow,

                                               Enact revenge will a whole infantry corps,

                                              So to all of wolf-kind, loe!

Hope you enjoyed!