Lone Wolf

Lone Wolf… He is the irony unto his lonesome self Thrust upon this world A cub youngling He absconds from family In search of something else The Lone Wolf… A spirit found, a spirit lost Travails path of storm and wind Looking and seeking The nomad hunter without friends Loneliness the only cost A Lone Wolf… Forever bearing the intensity of heart Burning into mind’s eye Sardonic is his never knowing Consequence of playing part Lone Wolf… Finding refuge within darkness… From fast approaching storms But, sanctuary from his own madness… Found only in brashness and honor Of the soul that roams The Lone Wolf… Like the undiscovered serpent of the sea… The soaring eagle Longs only to be free But instinct his jailer And hunger his need A Lone wolf… A vanishing vagrant into long drawn shadows… Woodlands of a twilight sun Pursuing fresh quarry scents Unsullied mate she wolves natal young’s Lone Wolf… His lonesome irony abets in its return As nights timber penumbras tumble forth… A semblance of spectral sirs Whelps of innocence from the night to the lunar lights… Do not go unheard