In the heart of the whispering woods,
Beneath the silver glow of night,
The wolves, with eyes of ancient tales,
Weave through shadows, swift and light.

Their howls are songs of distant stars,
Echoing through the silent trees,
A chorus of the wild and free,
That dances with the midnight breeze.

The moon, their silent guardian bright,
Watches over their secret trail,
As they move as one, a ghostly sight,
In the land where legends prevail.

In the solitude of the night,
The wolves embrace their mystic lore,
Guardians of the forest’s might,
Their spirits bound forevermore.