The Young Wild

A wolf pup cries out for its mother, it is lost in the winterland

Wind blows, and the mountains seem to grow, as he wonders

Into the night, no one in sight, but the howling of the nature

And the hooting of the howl, blistering cold, it is the winters night

Where everyone hides, and the song of the woods lives on

The spirits of the natives live in this forest, and they protect each other

While the young wild move slowly into safety, where the Cherokee find the shelter

For the wolf is our blood, he is our strength, and our survivor

The wild will conquer the enemy, it will see us through the night

And one day we will meet again, in the dawn of the day, we no longer fight

Our pain will be in the hands of the mother nature,  and we will be one again