The Silver Wolf

Something I wrote when I was, like, seven... I recently discovered an old notebook of mine...

The moon shone down
On an unsuspecting forest,
Filled with chatters and squeaks.
There was noise all around
Nobody sensed what was to come.

For there came an hour
When through the forest
Stalked the Silver Wolf
Product of a diseased imagination...

Dangerously, silently
Scythe like claws bit the ground
Gleaming fangs hung dangerously
From a curled and sneering jaw

With great silver strides
The wolf covered ground
While all creatures around
Fell still
Sending a silent prayer
To those who would fall to the jaws
The claws
Of the giant Silver Wolf.