Exile

Exile

A single wolf sat against the snow,
His pelt alight in the winter moon.
Only a shadow walks beside
His empty footsteps.

This is not how it should be,
So he closed his eyes and thought back.

Back to when he'd roamed alone.
The wind at his back, the eagle
Giving chase. Every mighty peak
Mocks his solitude in the winter rain.

This is not how it should be,
So he closed his eyes and thought back.

Back to when many wolves surrounded him,
Each a blood-mate in one way or the next.
But none tried to console the ache
That burned inside his empty throat.

This is not how it should be,
So closed his eyes and thought back.

Back to when the autumn leaves
Cloaked the ground in Mother Earth's shades.
The pack sang of freedom to soothe the restless wind.
Only on the edge could Wolf find comfort
From the shame of a lost voice.

This is not how it should be,
So he closed his eyes and thought back.

Back to when soft darkness protected them.
Warm milk and soft fur was their only world,
Other than the scent of Mother. His sisters slept
Beside him and the pack rejoiced their lives.

This is how it should be,
So Wolf stayed in his mind forever.