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 Posted: Tue Mar 02, 2010 10:03 pm
The mournfull howl
Strikes the night
Slashes the moon
Kills your pride
Bathed in blood,
Swathed in pain,
The mournfull howl,
Will kill again.
It neither dies,
Nor ends,
But fades, ready to be stuck again.
To hear it,
Is a gift.
Charrish it.
For you may die,
Before he howls again.
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Posted: Fri May 21, 2010 8:23 pm
lone wolf troting through the ink black night
you are alone not a love in the world
chaced from your home you spead
a singil tear runs down your face
from the memory of your old den
away in flight saddness creaps in
you long for love
but no one for it to give
lone wolf
stand tall and proud
forget yor painful past
do not think of the future
only the present
which is a gift
plz tell me how it is plz
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