Wolves in the storm

(translated from the original one posted in http://valvuladeescapeexistencial.blogspot.com.br/2012/03/lobos-na-tempestade-10-nascidos-da-neve.html )

Born in the snow
far away from everyone.
These are the wolves:
a pack,
a band of brothers
steering in search of a paradise
having as only partner the Moon.

Wolves in the storm.
Even passed so many dangers
still continue walking on the edge of the abyss.

Over their trails there is a man
whose only motivation is blood.
Blood to avenge the deaths of those who were taken away.
Nothing will stop him,
neither the intense cold
because the alcohol warms him
and the fire in his eyes motivates him.

While the rain falls,
from his eyes get out together tears of regret.
Regret for not having gone together with the fire.
Fire already extincted by the past.
Of going with death and staying close to his family.
His essence now resumes in a turbulent life,
so turbulent as the storm that follows him.

A city is found.
City stopped in time.
Renegaded.
A city that smells of sadness.
Rottenness and contemptuousness...
human beings.
Human beings that have as their greatest partner the destruction.

However, it is necessary to cross.
"The paradise must be after this" says the leader.

After more time supplied
looks the disgraces that surrounds him
and thinks while moveing on:
"Each one receives what is due
that´s why this city has what the man already brought within."

The hunger spread out.
Long was the way covered.
The mistrust has taken possession.
Reings now in each distrustful look...

While in ruins from a civilization the hunter sleeps,
over dead flesh of his partners
the few survivors rest.

By the chaos taken
the leader now a runaway of his own pack has as companion only
loneliness.

Passed the storm,
finished the alcohol
some food is necessary.
Vulures in the sky are found.
"Oportunity!" is what he thinks.
However, arrived the destination wrath dominates him.
His promise wasn´t accomplished.
Didn´t kill who put fire in his life...
he failed!

A shot solved the problem.
The body wrapped in darkness
mixed with the white of the snow already coloured in red...
Belonged nevermore to the destine.

Poor man!
Had he known that the ones intrusted of protecting him
were the ones that burned his life.
The other ones bought by the money.

Poor wolves!
Had they known the were so lusted by everyone.
One of few other species of animals still alive...
Would they give up?

Poor planet!
Had it known it would be destroyed by that who it fed...
Roses are now its comfort.
Roses that explode and penetrate in its surface as a parasite.
Maybe they are...

The leader wolf finally can rest.
He found the rose,
the key to the paradise.
Peace was found.

The other strong wolves
now uncertain and blind
run desperately without direction.
Each one alone,
each one lost
in the anger of glowing snow
that invades each part of their bodies.

In this mortal tempest
they are wolves in the storm...