The Wilder Ones. Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

Wolves have no conscience
They are wild and ever wild
In wilderness they bought up
In wilderness they roars
Their footsteps are for catching preys
And to follow for an appropriate time
To make it easy to catch and kill
They are destined to live in the wild
It is their own habitat to live on
Then why we can expect a hope in wilderness
We inherit and try to achieve something
The best of conscience keep us separate
Though sometimes the things sees different.