The mongrel reaps the harvest it was sown Before its birth, its fate was set in place From parents mixed, no single kind its own A creature formed in conflict and in space. Half one, half other, never wholly either It cannot speak in ways both sides can hear; It walks a path that joins and parts together Yet finds no home, no voice that draws it near. A bastard’s burden settles on its days, A wolfdog caught between the wild and tame It cannot choose between these separate ways Nor free itself from this divided claim. It longs to run unbound, untamed, and free, Yet bends in quiet, bound to loyalty.
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