Night of Wolves

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Saturday Mix- Mad about Metaphors – THE WIND WAS A HOWLING WOLF.

The night just stepped in. A beautiful damsel clad in black gown with starry crystals shining here and there.

 While the lone wolf was making his move preying his dinner, deep down in the jungle, a pack of wolves joined in greeting the moon. With the howling gaining pitch, the soothing wind metamorphosed into the pack. Now, the wind was a howling wolf.  He wanted the night.

Oblivious to the oblivion, the night cradled on perches of trees, nests of birds, ant hills, and everyone’s minds. But she was in trouble.

She had no escape as the predator was enclosing her from all sides.

The trees gaining momentum from the wind, decided to celebrate the hunt. Luxuriating them was the rain which came down as the magic potion. They swayed in unison to the wind and enjoyed the show, though it meant at least some of them would end in wreckage. But they didn’t care.

When the night encountered this ruthless frenzy of the wind, her soul- the night sky endured more. Like the oceans fancied the death dance, giant grey clouds about to burst with the drink of caprice, engulfed the aesthetic moon glow and glamorous star shine.

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