A change in the wind

The evening sun glows its last,
and sinks below the silhouetted horizon,
night creeps darker,
as the cold moon rises.
In the silence of night,
a grey wold is heard singing alone.
An owl perched proudly upon his wooden throne,
as a vole takes refuge among the broken branches,
hiding from his enevatable fate.
A change? The wind turns bitter
as the wolf stalks his pray.
A man, sat alone.
Ignorance it would seem was bliss,
tonight it would not save.
A flash of sunrise.
The wolf returns home.