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Okay dear.... here we go... its, kinda long, since its several poems, all in one go.. sweatdrop
the third and fourth are kind of... crappy, but the last one.... I like that one alot... *winks at bard*
The Black-Wolf: Old Way
A lone black wolf watches from the trees,
Noone ever knowing quite what he sees.
He stands in deepest night, all limned in frost,
Flashing copper eyes, seeming lost.
All alone he runs, never watching for long,
He leaves only a distant howl, his doleful song.
Maybe someday he will find a home,
A welcome pack to call his own.
But for now, alone he'll stay,
Nothing but the silv'ry moon, to light his way.
The Black-Wolf: Redeemed
Deep in the forest the Black-Wolf still runs,
Through all the nights, of a great many suns.
But not alone in running this dark frozen night,
Up ahead is another, a wolf, of white.
Through the still darkness she flees,
A pale white ghost, flitting, among the trees.
A winding path she leaves in the snow,
The way of light to him she does show.
The endless cold night draws to a close,
For the sky now opened, ahead of her glows.
She brings forth in him a new ideal,
To run, and grasp, what is truly real.
The dreams of night he leaves behind,
To somehow with her, happiness, find.
Welcome is the change to the Black-Wolfs ways,
He no longer watches, but he comes, and plays.
No longer his howl echoes out with sorrow,
But happiness and wonder and at the dawning morrow.
To her alone this newfound joy is owed,
She led him on, to a better road.
So happily now, he follows her distant form,
To lands of light, and climate, warm.
The Black-Wolf: Loss
The light ahead was a fretful dream,
A wondrous ideal, a glorious theme.
But the way all dreams do, it passed,
Fury and sorrow in the black have massed.
A foolish flight, a grievous mistake,
Not ever again never such a one he?ll make.
The paths of light are corrupt, their ways defiled,
Upon his shoulders this heavy sorrow piled.
No longer the white wolf leads his way,
in mystery she disappears, she lead him astray.
It wasn?t her fault, she was never to blame,
Just the Black-Wolf's hope, and selfish game.
Despair and hope fight for control, both adding to his pain,
The black is torn asunder and nothing does remain.
In place of the black stands a shining human,
Steely limbs and plated skin, defend as best they can.
Newly born, the last vestiges of his former shades,
Call a final howl, that into the night sadly fades.
New resolve fills the dawning mind,
No rest in this world will he ever find.
The path to happiness having taken its cost,
He could never ever know what he truly lost.
The Black Wolf: Mired In Hope
Even after it's destruction the wolf holds sway,
Its old values and concerns lead the man on his way.
What does this desperate hope feed upon within,
What keeps its flickering flames alight ?neath his skin.
He thinks as he walks, lost in this desolate new land,
His guide left him to live by his own, untested, hand.
Every day he watches, as he walks with heavy tread,
Hoping against hope to see her beautiful form up ahead.
Each day a sorrow, weight to his burdened mind,
He lives in memory fading, why was I so blind?
Still hope lingers on in his newly plated soul,
What ever could he find, to once more make him whole.
What was it he meant when he said he ?loves? her,
Is it his lot to be taunted by fates cruelest maneuver?
His mind seems to forget what they once spoke of,
How often she laughed, or smiled, could it still be love?
Does love forget? Or is it only in defense,
Does his mind now falter, It seems good sense.
Still not a moment goes by when she?s not in his head,
Her presence in him being both joy and dread.
Will she return, or is he lost to the whirlwind of life,
He sits and wonders as his mind shakes in strife.
The Black Wolf: First tale of the two
Winter carries on, its long darkest hour,
the black wolf's dreams, have all now gone sour.
With heavy paws, he skulks through the night,
his forlorn thoughts, aired in plain open sight.
Never will he find, a mate to be,
his one true love, and set him free.
Resolved is he now, to never so fail,
As to let love in his heart, nor the very tip of his tail
So lonely and pained, to the sky he howls,
meaning it from his soul's deepest bowels.
Blinded he walks, in the light of day,
never stopping for long, to hear what others say.
From pack to pack, he wanders at night
never stopping, or warm, he continues his flight.
And so one eve, when paws were weary,
he came to rest, and then saw her clearly.
First he thought t'was no more than a dream,
His eyes knew now to be a wolf, and black did she seem.
Her muzzle was fine, and shapely her ears,
silken fur so warm, it would melt all his fears.
With a twitch of her tail, her life she declared,
so still as a statue, he sat frozen, and stared.
She turned to the sky, and howled so fair
but sad were its tidings, as it pierced through the air.
Alone she was, so cold without pack,
only her fur made her thus, for shunned, was black.
Her howl struck deep, so swift and so strong,
to the long frozen heart, of the black, alone oh so long.
But still his resolve, he did not then break,
for far from him, she was across a deep lake.
But wih the spark of new life, embedded so deep,
he raised his dark muzzle, to answer and weep.
For in her howl she spoke, his same dark accord,
to never seek love, forever solitude, to hoard
She answered him then, and turned to him first,
her gentle gold and blue eyes, so filled with a thirst.
Together they howled, long into the dark,
and kindled unknown, a long hidden spark.
Both of them knew, "It could never be!"
so from their true feelings, they both did flee.
But not for long is the heart be ignored,
especially with love, as deep as it had bored.
Finally, at last! Their howling told true,
no longer could they hold, what their hearts sorely knew.
Together they belonged, and soon it was set,
so with timid paws, circled the wide lake, and met.
Hesitant at first, they moved round and such,
till all a sudden their muzzles, so softly did touch.
Suprised are they still at that simplest thing,
often looking back, and making their hearts sing.
For now both are one, and forever shall be,
the lost have been found, the frozen set free.
But not ended yet, is the tail of the black,
for, certain their future, will not tales lack.
Sickeningly long ne? redface sweatdrop
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