MOONTRAP: A collection of English Poems

| howl |

There will always be
something

left in you,

left in you,

for the wolves,

in the dark,

as they will come running,

with the slightest hint 

of the flesh of yours,
and they will take a bite,
for fierce they are,

and blood will drip from their

cunning teeth

and running joy,

but they won't howl,

or crawl, or roar or hoot. 
They will speak to you

softly about violins and

summer songs

as they will

continue to chew your

bones

but before they 
take your vision, 

see them in the eye, 

and you'll see,
there were no wolves

but the people 

you always thought would

stand with you

till your last breath,

and so they stand

causing your last breath,

and your first death,

but there is a thought,

or a conundrum 

of trust, and love, 
and promises, they all made,

one by one, 
and here they all are,

taking bites from your lives,

and smiling,

and clinking their glasses high,

and praying for your good health,

and then they howl. 

~ MisterAugust.  

Author's Note: 

The Poem you read just now is a work of fiction, and resemblance with any living or non-living or alien entity would be purely coincidental. 

So, if you liked the poem, or the nature of poem, and if it made you question the way you question life, hit the star button. It's missing your presence from a very long time.

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And, yes, thanks a lot for your encouragement and support.