THE WOLF WAS NEVER THE CURSE (Myths and Legends Series) Part Seven

 

The Wolf Was Never The Curse

(Myths and Legends Series)

Part Seven

They say the moonlight cursed them,

And summoned forth the beast.

That once the change had taken hold,

Their humanity had ceased.

But wolves were never monsters,

Nor creatures born to kill.

They shared one soul between two forms,

Each guided by one will.

The moon did not control them,

Nor force their bones to rearrange.

It called forth the wolf within them,

And helped them through the change.

Their pack was more than bloodlines,

Or others of their kind.

It formed among the souls they loved,

Whose hearts with theirs aligned.

They did not hunt the helpless,

Nor kill for mere delight.

But dare threaten one they called their own,

And their wolves emerged at night.

The stories spoke of slaughter,

Of savage tooth and claw.

Yet left untold what came before,

All the blood that people saw.

The kingdoms sent their soldiers,

To hunt them at twilight.

No pack was safe from outsiders,

Who stormed their camps at night

They held their wolves within,

Though moonlight urged them from their cage.

They faced the kingdom’s armored soldiers,

And offered peace, not rage.

But their offer went unheeded,

For the soldiers came to fight.

They raised their swords against the pack,

Convinced their cause was right.

Since peace had failed and swords were raised,

They took their wolfish form.

They fought for freedom and for home,

In the moonlit storm.

They were not lost to bloodlust,

Nor driven by the kill.

They fought until the threat had passed,

Then every wolf stood still.

The survivors left on horseback,

Weary and beaten down.

And headed towards the kingdom,

With a message for the crown.

They spoke of unexpected mercy,

From those they’d gone to slay.

For wolves had spared the living,

And let them ride away.

But truth could shake a kingdom,

And the kingdom must prevail.

So the truth became a secret,

And the lie became the tale.

They spoke of ferocious beasts,

Who killed without a cause.

Of men consumed by moonlight,

With bloodied, taloned paws.

As generations came and went,

The story still was told.

The moon became their dreaded curse,

As the lies grew centuries old.

Beyond the reach of mortal eyes,

Their hidden packs still roam…

They live just like the humans do,

But call the forest home.

So should you hear a distant howl,

On a full moon night,

There’s no need for you to be scared,

For those werewolves do not bite.

Original Poetry Written By

Eryn Dunbar

Copyright ©️ 9.6.2026