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 that’s 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.
