The lone wolf lost its pack,
He cries of lonesomeness at the night,
He eats alone with a weak snack,
Forever wondering why his pack had left,
He walks a lonely trail at the bright of night,
Finding a cave to sleep in tonight.
He wakes up at the early dawn,
Hoping to see his friends,
But he wakes up alone and sad,
He stays in the cave and lays,
The wolf stays and stays,
He does not move, He does not eat,
He dies and goes with mother-nature.
The earth devours his body and makes his grave,
The energy of the wolf flows through nature's roots,
He became a part of nature, Bringing new life.
A single flower grows on the wolves grave,
Inside the flower are seeds, Waiting to grow and thrive,
The wind blows the seeds through a tempest,
Scattering the seeds everywhere,
The seeds are planted and growing new life,
All because of the lone wolf who lost its pack.
One of many poems I have written. |