The Porcupine Poem by Saint Eule

What creature have I become to follow your will,
Waddling through the forest looking for soft wood.
Beast threatening to eat my innocence repelled by quill,
Searching through the forest for words that should.

Be written often by the beast bitten,

Finding grubs along the way,
A lonely creature of the night.
Protected by the coat I pray,
Your will be done not my might.

The beast always on my tail,
I live another day for you Lord, divine.
The price too great to fail,
Waddling through the forest, the porcupine.