poems

Wolf Pack Melody

The curtain opened.
He walked up the hill and stood at the top.
Others stood at the bottom silently,
Watching, waiting for something to happen.
Suddenly, a loud note sang though the sky.
It was long and crisp, a mellowish note.
The song had begun.
The wolf sang a song that sung of hunting,
The zigzagging rabbits that ran swiftly.
The horns of a buck that caused many deaths.
A swift, cold, chilling breeze swept through the pack.
The sky was clear and the stars shone bright.
The solo went on.
The others waited as if for a cue,
Heads lifted high, they joined in on the song.
A choir of canines clothed in gray robes,
Some sang melody, some sang harmony,
All blended together in unison,
The wolves sang aloud.
The choir stopped and the solo began,
It was as loud and as crisp as before.
His microphone was the mountains and hills,
The howling echoed for miles around.
The suddenly silence surrounded them,
The song had ended.
His head held high and his tail in the air,
He sprinted down the hill, which was his stage.
Then from all around, birds began to chirp.
The wolves then began to bark their applaud.
Even the shining stars seemed to approve.
The curtain had closed.



Locked on My Side of the Door

I am locked in this life,
Inside a dark room.
But it is closed and locked,
On my side of the door.

The key is in my hand,
I can unloch the door,
But I can't find the strength.
This is my prison,
Yet it is my shelter,
From the dark world outside.

Some people knock and call,
They want into my room,
They want my door unlocked,
They want to help save me.

Bright light steams though the cracks,
Where the door meets the fame.
It shines though the darkness,
Showing a glimse of love.

But I can't find the will,
To let those people in.
The light is frightening,
I cannot face the truth,
That shines through the darkness,
Showing a glimse of love.

I desire friendship,
But when the people come,
I do not let them in.
I don't open my door,
Yet I want them inside,
To see my broken soul.

To some I'll open it,
But only just a crack,
Let them see my soul's room.

When they try to enter,
I close the dooron them,
And put the lochk in place.

I walk to the corner,
Far away from the door,
Where the light does not reach,
And wallow in my pain,
Ignoring my friends' help.

I am locked in this life,
Inside a small dark room.
There is only one door,
But it is closed and locked,
On my side of the door.



At the Cross

Stumbling through the darkness,
The darkness of my own pain’
I’m slowly bleeding to death.
I am clutching at the knife,
That has been stabbed though my soul.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.

Stumbling through the darkness,
I fall to my knees crying,
Shaking from exhaustion,
Of the never ending night,
Of the never ending pain.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.

Stumbling through the darkness,
My wounds open and bleeding,
Are drenching the ground in blood.
I’m screaming out in pain,
But only certain people hear.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.

Stumbling through the darkness,
Searching for a guiding light.
I know who I need to find,
I know where He’s waiting,
Waiting at the cross for me.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.
But Jesus hears me crying,
And waits at the cross to rescue me.