Do they still howl upon the mount. Raising more voices than you can count No friend, I hear howls from only one, waiting for his friends to come. Where is his pack? I don't know. Poached? Overtaken by a deadly foe? He still raises his voice hoping to beckon from hiding places just one second. But all I hear is the lonely howl. And I must confess I see a scowl has placed its self upon his brow as he realizes only now That none are coming to the empty clearing No matter how much his heart is yearning the pack has fallen and only one a pack does not make. His howls are whimpers his head barely raises His paws leave short tracks There is one voice upon the mount. Does one voice really count when the pack is what you want to hear. His howl hopes to bring them near. But each night the echoes are his only friends. And that dear friend is how a pack endss.