I'm not really a poet...but I do write a little from time to time. Usually, I write about what is bouncing around most vigourously in my head. Sometimes positive occasionally glum. I haven't had the opportunity to work on my writing so it is not going to be terribly impressive. Oh well.


I am the lone wolf.
Covered in a sheen of ancient gray,
I move through the wilds.
Past streams, past forests,
By swamps and pastures.

I am tired and old.
My eyes bear the pain of failure and regret.
Scars, rekindle my past,
Of demons that have ravaged,
Of demons that ravage still.
I seek,
But do not find.

They fear me.
I do not wish to kill,
My heart is no longer in it.
For the silence of death has followed my hand for long enough,
No longer shall the earth drink deep of my actions.

My pack,
They loved me,
They continue to love,
But they know not of what I have become.
My heart has hardened,
My soul cold and dark.
I am the sorrow at the end of their trail of tears.
I seek,
But do not find.

Curse the rising sun,
It drags forth another day.
Of living with my past,
Of paying for my pain.
Only in the night does my anguish settle,
Yet not enough for screams to pass away.
I seek,
But do not find.

I am become the hunted.
My enemies rise to take me,
I have made no friends tonight.
What does it matter now,
One life to further another.
I will not go quietly,
I cannot, the lives I have taken demand this.

The fog of the past surrounds me,
The burden of regret hangs low.
All those who have loved,
Who have cared and hoped,
I have wasted their gifts.
I seek,
But do not find.

In a world of carnage I sink,
The stillness of death draws near.
Those who have challenged have fallen,
Yet their hate pierces deep.
My death will be heralded, then forgotten.
No matter,
My failure is complete.
I seek,
But I cannot find.