Mind's Eyes

Something stirs within...
After seemingly endless sleep,
the beast samples the wind.
Cautious at first, for patience is in its nature,
but hunger drives it to rise.

Its name strikes fear, though it knows none.
Its tongue caresses razor teeth,
its steely fur shuns claw and cold.
An unbreakable will burns beneath.
It hastens from its secret den,
and runs among the windswept pines.
Now it hunts, my beast within;
now the eyes of the wolf are mine.