Post by TarotDragon on Feb 11, 2008 20:41:31 GMT -5
Silent Lament
I feel the trembling in my bones
A changing in the tones
That my body sings
I cannot fight what the moon brings
A writhing in my skin
Welling of a soul from deep within
Flaxen hair to brindled fur
My change not to common cur
My visage to snarling jaw
Hands and feet to padded paw
As my body, my soul accepts this boon
I howl unto the moon
Free at last from my human shell
I run from this suburban hell
Pavement fades to bush covered hill
A rabbit spooks, its time for the kill
An open starlight night
Has game fleeing in fright
But this is not why I haunt the dark
Must I make the confession that I am a lark?
I take this shape to feel the wind upon my face
And the thrill of the chase
But the kill is not what I need
I have no reason to feed
The grass between my toes
Scents tickling at my nose
I frolic amid fallen leaves
Hearing the singing of the trees
Here in my wolfen form
I escape from human norm
In wild places is where I’m supposed to be
This shape the truthful me
All too soon moon is gone
Chased away by the coming dawn
Forced back to human confinement
I alone cry in silent lament
Probably my first real attempt at writing poetry. Been told its a bit immature and its really not a style I feel comfortable in, but I wanted to do this story. Chose werewolfism because 1) I love wolves and 2) the symbolism of the shapeshift.
Kudos to everyone who showed their stuff before me cause I wouldn't have have had the guts to do so. ;D
I feel the trembling in my bones
A changing in the tones
That my body sings
I cannot fight what the moon brings
A writhing in my skin
Welling of a soul from deep within
Flaxen hair to brindled fur
My change not to common cur
My visage to snarling jaw
Hands and feet to padded paw
As my body, my soul accepts this boon
I howl unto the moon
Free at last from my human shell
I run from this suburban hell
Pavement fades to bush covered hill
A rabbit spooks, its time for the kill
An open starlight night
Has game fleeing in fright
But this is not why I haunt the dark
Must I make the confession that I am a lark?
I take this shape to feel the wind upon my face
And the thrill of the chase
But the kill is not what I need
I have no reason to feed
The grass between my toes
Scents tickling at my nose
I frolic amid fallen leaves
Hearing the singing of the trees
Here in my wolfen form
I escape from human norm
In wild places is where I’m supposed to be
This shape the truthful me
All too soon moon is gone
Chased away by the coming dawn
Forced back to human confinement
I alone cry in silent lament
Probably my first real attempt at writing poetry. Been told its a bit immature and its really not a style I feel comfortable in, but I wanted to do this story. Chose werewolfism because 1) I love wolves and 2) the symbolism of the shapeshift.
Kudos to everyone who showed their stuff before me cause I wouldn't have have had the guts to do so. ;D
)
