I walk into the world of virulent wolves with nothing but mischief under my sleeve,
What to others is a tumultuous ravine, for me its a premonition to redeem.

They surround, they slander, laying cobwebs for the adversary to concede
Little do they know of the forlorn games I won, neither of the weapon that I conceal.

To their fire I am the ice, to their darkness I am the morning sunrise,
Their constant shenanigans are just fuel to my patience pyre.

Mad I am from in to out but method to the madness is what’s on my priors,
No matter wolves are growling to scare, insecurities gallore in their vain stare.

I am ready for the battle with the ominous device,
Some call it chortle, others laughter, some chuckle, while others smile.

It is this what puts their minds through the turnstile,
Why go hard when killing them softly is so worthwhile.