Stormy story

Stormy winter night as I run wild and hide, looking the way to survive my tongue turns cold.Biting it  till the  blood drops to the hungry snow ,moving forward to the deep  forest  falling in the trap of  trees with a  crown of icicle. The fiery  wolf break loose there is no head turning till it find its prey to reaching far the frozen lake and what I have become  .Straight ahead  curiousity   burns the wolf desire that caught its attention by a lady of autumn dazzling with a hair of maple red.

By Florentinords