Into dark caves, curious wolves wander,
Make a den home when rain clouds thunder.
Some caves whisper of welkin turned lies,
End of the hollow, they must feast their eyes.
When to leave a cave, the wise wolf knows,
For the wolf has seen the wind that blows.
And when the skies clear and rain since dried,
The wolf soon forgets of the caves that lied.
© Sayer Teller