Oh, children far, children near, come all children, listen here,

Hear a story of long ago, back when there existed dragons and trolls.

To a small little village,  small little girl, who to her grandmother meant the world.

 

A fine red cloak, she had on, it was soft, it was long.

An innocent basket, she did hold, for her grandma, who was growing old.

Up the path, she did walk, careful not to step on any pointed rock.

 

The wolf did know, the wolf did see, the little girl wasn't heading for tea.

No one believed him, 'liar' they said, the wolf had to stop them from ending up dead.

A step he took, then another, to save the ones who had refused to call him brother.

 

"My little darling," the grandma did say, "Did you get my precious clay?"

The little girl entered, a smile on her face, "Yes, time to put the world in its place."

A bomb they created, a plan they made, but it wouldn't work if the wolf had any say.

 

His teeth were bared, his eyes were narrow, all he had was a bow and an arrow,

But determined was he, to win this fight, to stand up for what was right.

Through an open window, he took his aim, thinking, 'now is my turn to play a game.'

 

One breath in, one breath out, releasing any fears, releasing any doubt,

And like a wasp, the arrow went its way, and he leapt inside, to seek his prey,

"Murderer," they cried, when he journeyed back to town, and the wolf was cut down.

 

Silent in life, silent in death, he saved those who hated him with his very last breath.

The grandma and girl, their bodies never found, and the wolf is six feet in the ground.

A silent hero, an unknown savior, no one ever lived that was braver.