Wolf's Rain
Crystalline drops fall from the sky,
They fall silently,
Disappearing deep into nothing.
He could smell the rain with his keen nose,
The refreshing scent of morning dew.
He could hear the falling of the raindrops,
Listen to them as they slice through the air,
Falling into nothing.
The air is a warm humid,
From the rain and the lack of sun.
The abyss is the place the teardrops land,
Into the place of nothing.
The lone wolf is a forlorn being,
He wanders the wilderness,
The rivers, the forests, the grassy plains,
He wanders them all,
Alone.
Lost hope gleaming dimly in his eyes,
Tail hung limply in his weariness,
He was the rejected, the shunned, the unwanted,
The no one.
Too long has despair painted his thick fur coat,
Too long has loneliness haunted his mind,
Home was foreign to his tongue,
Spirits of desolation lingering over his footsteps,
Haunting and taunting his sorrow.
A wolf cannot cry for his pain,
Tears cannot leak out of his empty eyes.
A wolf is the predator, the killer unafraid,
Even if his soul is lost to the misery of solitude,
He cannot cry.
And therefore,
The rain weeps for him.
~Dedicated to Bonnie for showing me pics of "Wolf's Rain" where I got
the title. This is now one of my favorite poems since I lyk both wolves and
the rain ^__^
Crystalline drops fall from the sky,
They fall silently,
Disappearing deep into nothing.
He could smell the rain with his keen nose,
The refreshing scent of morning dew.
He could hear the falling of the raindrops,
Listen to them as they slice through the air,
Falling into nothing.
The air is a warm humid,
From the rain and the lack of sun.
The abyss is the place the teardrops land,
Into the place of nothing.
The lone wolf is a forlorn being,
He wanders the wilderness,
The rivers, the forests, the grassy plains,
He wanders them all,
Alone.
Lost hope gleaming dimly in his eyes,
Tail hung limply in his weariness,
He was the rejected, the shunned, the unwanted,
The no one.
Too long has despair painted his thick fur coat,
Too long has loneliness haunted his mind,
Home was foreign to his tongue,
Spirits of desolation lingering over his footsteps,
Haunting and taunting his sorrow.
A wolf cannot cry for his pain,
Tears cannot leak out of his empty eyes.
A wolf is the predator, the killer unafraid,
Even if his soul is lost to the misery of solitude,
He cannot cry.
And therefore,
The rain weeps for him.
~Dedicated to Bonnie for showing me pics of "Wolf's Rain" where I got
the title. This is now one of my favorite poems since I lyk both wolves and
the rain ^__^