written by Alan W. Goodson ©1997,1998
Silent against the night, dark coat shimmering blackly,
reflected by trails of tears in dark alleys of fear
held close to the heart of all who feel his shadow caressing their pain.
Eyes shining through devastated dreams of love found shattered
against the cold hard stone of unfaithful demons professing everlasting devotion,
but to none other than themselves.
Feeding upon the lies and immoral meanderings of heartless thieves
who steal hope from promises, leaving behind empty shells
to gather the remains of misplaced desires turned to dust.
Teeth glinting bright, but stained with the blood of passion spent foolishly
on empty souls, who are bound only by their profane vows
of unholy matrimony to their own selfish compulsions.
Sniffing the air, savoring the stench of shattered lives,
laying to rot in the emotional gutter of discontent,
where colorless rainbows lead only to pots of tarnished coins turning quickly to rust.
Prowling stealthily through the debris of innocence forsaken,
discarded and forever lost to the wrath of wanton lust,
tearing at the throat of soft victims
held helpless beneath the strength of dark angels of desire.
The Wolf, dark scavenger of broken hearts,
lies in satiated repose, having fed on feasts of anguish,
dreams quietly through the day,
knowing the night comes quickly and the hunt goes on.