Coyote

Coyote

The times of my life are within a moment too much to describe in english prose. The euphoria mixes with the personalities and at once, we are simply, in character. From the visions of the past to the stanzas expressed with the utmost charity. I am Coyote. A dog in the night to some, yet a beautiful creature to those whom are able to catch such a passing glimpse. I whisper to the night and howl at the darkness with the reverence of a thousand tame canines. I run through the fields of everlasting danger, yet then i suddenly appear in a clearing of the grass and smile a grin of psychotic teeth. To be a wild dog, is to be completely free. To be a savage canine that hunts in the night, is to be executed by the rifle of an angry authority. One that i neither respect nor care to heed the warning of. Run, I say, if you see for one second in your life that to be this savage is what you truly wish to be. Bite and nip at the words that are clearly stated in those hallowed halls, attack the laws written in stone just outside of the courthouse, and devour the bloody shadows that stand in defiance of who you are entirely. For to be alive is to surely die. Let us gather now, and howl with the utmost abandon. Let us then run together through society, tearing our teeth against anyone whom dares even step near. I then suddenly stop, as the pack runs past with the speed of their envy, and bark at the predecessor that dares to claim my name ferociously. I will hunt, I will kill, and i will surely be executed. Now putting paw down and gaze forward, I run into the future with an absolute fury.