Odin and Fenris (1909) by Dorothy Hardy
Who wins is the one he feeds
The gentleman or the beast
The calm and quiet surface
Or the tempest underneath
Though a noble sets the table
A darker half looks to feast
And the man that is consumed
Will be the one we need
This mask wearing thin
Pretends to be a mortal man
Yet wilding under the skin
Its hunger that bites the hand
Destroyed from the outside in
Still they'll never understand
It's the prize he cannot win
He can never be the plan
The monster wants to pull it
Shed that façade like a suit
Slither from that frail knit
And take his place at the root
His feral personality split
Now becomes the master brute
With no hope or silver bullets
The wolf who ate is absolute
