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Fantasy of the Great Brier

By @Shiba

Wolf

Black eyes glitter in the dark,

 growling and snapping as it barks.

As the moon comes out,

I see a deadly sight.

Big black fur,

I know I’ll die for sure.

I hear it howl,

I smell a smell so foul.

Fresh meat,

 surely for them to eat.

Which is me,

so I have to flee.

So when I turn to flee,

I hope to be free.

Thundering steps start behind me,

I sure hope not to see.

When I sadly trip,

I also flip.

As they grow near,

I have a feeling I’ll have fear.

I have to get up,

but where’s the ‘sup’.

I turned to see,

then I turned to flee.

A black blur,

Messed up fur,

they will eat me for sure.

As they snipe,

 I hope they don’t snape.

When they stop and point their noses to the sky,

I felt as if I could fly.

A howl,

which will be so sour.

When they caught me,

I know I won’t be free.

As they bite and tear, 

I feel the life slip away from me.

So when the last one bites my neck,

I say good-bye.

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