‘THE WOLF MOTHER’S MANTRA’

They scour our kingdom, 
the searing scent of spent gunpowder, 
erecting their stone towers, 
and hiding inside them like cowards. 
These are your final hours. 
Imagine the forgotten spring's flower 
and endless afternoon rain showers. 
May your flesh grant power, 
May our enemies be devoured.

THE WOLF MOTHER'S MANTRA 
Written by Jungle (N.F.N.)  
(C) 2021 all rights reserved.

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