The wolf runs wild within my chest, Its footsteps heavy, never rest. It leaps through valleys of my doubt, A creature I cannot chase out. Yet still I breathe, I hunt the night, For even shadows fade with light.
But alongside, in quiet grace, The bear walks steady, knows its place. It watches with a patient eye, A strength thatβs silent, never shy. In moments dark, when all feels lost, The bear reminds me of the cost: That peace, not violence, shows the way, And wisdom knows when to delay.
The wolf may chase, the bear may roam, But in their dance, I find my home.
Good wolf, bad wolf? Who knows, only the bear that roams.