Free Spirit.

 She has a Heart, as crimson as
The Blood Moon.
Her hair swirls behind her in the Night,
As the Wind blows through.

She closes her eyes & lets out a cry.
A high pitched howl, as she channels her
Spirit Animal, that of a wolf.

Her voice echoing through the Forrest,
Before bouncing off of the lake and
Reaching its final resting place in the
Moon's embrace.

 
A Wish, to her Ancestors before her,
Looking down on her from the night
Sky.

Nothing can unravel or replace
The Authenticity that is, a Free Spirit.
She soaks up every second of being alone
In the Wilderness, now that she's broken
Out of the cage that was her Tribe's expectations.

Her Whole life, until this very moment,
She has only known what its like to be contained.
After everything she's been through,
Finally her Prison has rusted away.
All that remains now, is a pile of amber dust,
Where her cell has at last decayed.

Each and every fibre of her Being,
Come & fuse together, before separating,
Exploding & scattering into the night sky,
Shining brighter than the stars.

She has Finally, evolved.
Taken on her True Form.
She has at long last,
Freed Her Spirit.
She has Become the most
Beautiful & wild,
Werewolf.

 - Alexandra Pierotti.