Haikus
A wolf calls by night
His cry echoes across the snow
Saluting the moon
Snow like a bride’s veil
Covers the chaste and sleeping earth
Awaiting spring’s plow
Thunder of horse’s hooves
Calls to the hearts of men, but
I will ride the wind
The color of death
Is crimson blood, and vengeance
I’ll not be forsworn
Neither moon nor sun
Nor flowers, nor green meadows
Cure my broken heart
My, oh my, oh my
That’s rather unusual
Don’t you think so too?