The Sentinels Black Fur


The sentinels black fur,
Was taken just for her.
Sleeping in the cave,
Or was his own grave?
Guarding his own home,
A hunter took his bone.
With a loud and sudden sound,
The sentinel fell to the ground.
That same hunter took his fur,
And transformed it just for her.
Now she lies in bed at night,
Waiting for the morning light,
When she can rise once more,
And gaze upon the cold hard floor.
Why upon the floor she gazed?
For that is where the sentinel lays.

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