Ties

This giant wolf, he still was pup to me;
I'd throw a stick and he would fetch a tree.
The others feared his hunger deep and raw,
while I in play would often grasp his maw.

A different sort of game I came to play:
For safety's sake his trust I should betray,
not for what he had done, but he might do;
and for his freedom pledged my hand in lieu.

That part of me he'd keep, if nothing more;
like him, in years to come I'd miss it sore.
Six things that cannot be
wrapped him in chains;
the seventh, justice, unmentioned remains.

My choice was clear,
with all the worlds at stake:
That bond, as it tied him, made ours break.

This work by Michaela Macha is licensed
under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.

Artwork by Brianda Batchelor.