High above in heaven,
a great wolf can be found,
with feathered wings so wondrous,
he's talked about all around.

His fur is like rainbow,
yet very soft and sleek.
A wolf with such beauty;
his presence is unique.

Though he may sound boastful,
this canine is not vain.
A wing set of an angel;
his virtues most the same.

He flies down from the heavens,
each and every day,
so many lonely children,
have one with which to play.

Evil conquers many minds,
and tries to clip his wings,
to sunder them forever
to stop the love he brings.

He warms those who are cold in heart
he helps those who are weak.
He even gives them soft, sweet dreams,
to help them go to sleep.

When he is confronted,
the hearts around him sing.
He asks his foe politely,
"To whom do you call king?"

When sickness claims a simple heart
and no one knows a cure,
one prays the wolf is at their side;
he comes there whole and pure.

For those without a shelter
who are kept down in the rain,
he shows them to the azure sky,
to see the sun again.

As one matures they can't believe,
how the wolf can leave their lives
As age conquers the simple heart,
he passes past their eyes.

When his time has come to pass,
all life will be the same.
He does not matter in the end,
to us he's just a game.