Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search
 




Average Rating
0.00

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

Are The Wolves Going To Attack? by Mila Strictzer

A tribute to poet John Knoepfle


A distant howl rode on the chilling night
Cro-Magnon might have sensed the tense danger
Of hell's evil awakened in my mind's sight
From its own face I knew it was no stranger
I can see my memory dumbly speaking of my past
Images; a strange numbness in a nightmare
The beasts seeking longingly and steadfast
Once I entered the dreams of their own lair
Waiting, the rain steadily beats down in sheets but to move I do not dare.

In prison on a deserted island a hundred years I sat
Knowing the terrible fear which curiosity drove on
I was alone for from the walls came no tap
I could see deep down the hall and above all the song
Into the belly of the beast all the power unknown
To any human I have met in this life or any other; songs
I sang without fear in the daylight; this I condone
My self, I was becoming trapped by my own wrongs
To know that devil of the island is for what my heart strongly longs.

A howl seeks a tainted life of sickness and evil
The succulent Prince amongst one ancient foe
As he, I’ve courage to surrender my body as a meal
A happy childhood; the adult life I do not know
Struggling for my soul to be stillborn
I stare into the black box to have never begun
My feet are kept here for lives lost I morn
This I desire not, wishing the race be done
Everything here now is forever gone and by me the world is shun.

Each story I begin must lead only to pain
This life will be much the same as a tale
To live is naught but to against adversity sustain
For in the labyrinth all but the minotaur fail
Evading the ones which know me all too well
I travel downward in fear the passageways
Of my lost mind wishing I knew what the voices tell
I try so hard to know what they say of their dark days
Sad, unhappy chapters in the pages of a book of many a childhood phase.

Only one thought is calm for surely it must be
If not for everyone's eyes I soul begotten meet
To fathom the depths of sky and the stars see
Feeling the wind standing amongst a field of wheat
On this planet I scream for I do not know my own sight
In those eyes can I seek my restful desire
To know as others know; a passion for which I fight
No comfort to know earth, water, air and fire
I strangle Persephone’s milky white neck to win favor of my sire.

The evil virgin has greeted me in peaceful sleep
The succubus crawls on her knees in the nooks and crannies
I rock and shake; the cold sweat of fevers creep
In the pale moonlight her lustful image as a man-tease
Before the red dawn I awaken with a million dreams
A land where a daughter sits for whom is shed a tear
In the daylight she seeks her lover it seems
Yet even now it is only the beginning of my fear
Life is far worse and God's adulterating love is frightfully near.

Oh God, I long have ran from my adversaries
The wolves and the voices and I so weak
Looking up from a darkened coffin, my soul she buries
She the wife of the zombies who walk as meek
Lovingly arms outstretched they travel towards
And whiping her head around in a frantic trance
Perfection as a sailor who walks his boards
Through the sockets of my skull crawl red ants
Come one and all, you numb idiots of the night, on my grave dance.

The big one, his choking breathing, I can hear
He always keener with white, sharpened teeth
Drooling blood, whose is it? approaching near
I run down darkened corridors like a guilty thief
And pairs of red eyes peruse too close in attack
Seeking out rotting marrow and a diseased heart
Again a howl but now it is unholy answered back
But to keep dignity for with life I will gladly part
To the end this nightmare navigates from an all too familiar chart.

Ankles in stagnant stream pausing by a lonely wood
I look up to the heavens; a drizzle obscures my view
Thinking thoughts ahead to time unknown I could
Be an eaten carcass lying on the morning grass dew
But for now my wish in this nightmare seems
Their growling mocking the courage I lack
To end the life I cannot find in any dreams
Here at last I can then begin my backtrack
Peace in the solitude of the dead night; the wolves have attacked.

They close in from the impregnable birch forest
Low eyes among white from a childhood nightmare
They converge; the heart jumps seeing no test
I run and splash the shallow water as a hare
Runs insane in fear they incited by love for kill
One bites the thick muscle of my calf, his teeth
Sink into my flesh; the pain I feel until
I am dead and waiting my blood does seethe
I am dying before my eyes; to an unknown God my soul I bequeath.

I can see man through the tunnel of what I fear
To reach the end of this life I must slacken
In the darkness my own judgment draws near
The dark prince is there and my belief has blackened
Flesh in large chunks the Quadra pedals tore
With eyes wide like a deer still alive I lamented
Pious thoughts are no help; I was left a whore
A Viking's eagle of a man is one dissected
From dark rain clouds above I could lastly see the vultures had descended.





Comments

The following comments are for "Are The Wolves Going To Attack?"
by milastrictzer





Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.


Username:
Password:
Subject:
Comment:





Login:
Password: