Wolves (inspired by song)

20 0 0
                                    

Hey guys! I've been listening to this beautiful German rap by Kontra K and thought it would be nice to translate it, because for me it has been a great inspiration for a story. Maybe the story will become a one-shot and will be published here, or maybe it will become a short story one day... I don't know.

Well, anyways, here it is:


His grey coat, completely torn, still keeps him warm.

His pack is uncontrollable. But they follow him obediently.

The hunger so great. Always on the hunt.

Eyes are clouded, but teeth still sharp.

There's no room to breathe.

Even the toughest of claws become stump on the street.

Food is scarce, leaving an growling stomach.

Most of us left are merely wolves in sheep's clothing.

So he left, because on burned soil plants will grow no more.

What's left, he left for the rest.

Because only who comes first will always have enough.

From Gamma to Alpha.

From pup to Leader.

He is;

One of the best.

One of the last of his kind.

He shares his food. Even with the weakest.

He follows the unwritten rules, still has honour in his veins.

He knows it's better to have it, than merely talk about it.

Oh, let them talk.

He runs after the sun, flees from the rain.

He stays on his feet, even when she won't shine at night.

No matter how cold.

No matter how far his feet will carry him.

He might catch up with her.

After the sun.

Flee from the rain.

Stay on the run, even when she won't shine at night.

No matter how cold.

No matter how far your legs will carry you.

You might catch up with her.

It about so much more than strength.

Than sticking together or values.

It is so much more deeper than your wounds will ever get.

We go together, through the fire.

Until the day we both will die.

And find of sheer luck, a piece of green Earth still left untouched.

We cry at the moon, and scream our prayers towards the sky.

We only talk so they hear.

Not for the sound of our voice.

Great words seem lasting, but really.

Only great deeds are forever.

We are led by our instincts, in a world that only calculates.

Where honesty is a weakness and all her lies already law.

Where it's said; you better bite, or else you will be eaten.

Where loyal doesn't exists, only as words written in text.

And where friendship simply doesn't function anymore.

Where children not just fight, but pierce — completely blinded.

And from perfect we are still so infinitely far off.

But what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

And hope dies last.

It dies last.

A Writer's CerebrumWhere stories live. Discover now