The Call of the Wild by M.A.Meddings
And in the sepulcred woods
I sat against the oaken bier
and waited for what ?
The Hounds of Darkness to come?
I can hear them out in the forest
Baying like yesterdays discretions
There hot breath scorching
The Flora as they run.
And ere they pounce
I have but one defence
A single arrow
Aimed at the heart
Of the leading dog
And he stricken will fall
To be set upon by the pack
In the will to survive
For that is the call of the wild
Poetry by lastromantichero
Read 408 times
Written on 2006-11-05 at 18:43
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