Wolf Song.

The ragged edge of sleep,

Oh how it taunts,
And in the waking hours dares to haunt the soul
Of hunters graceless in their gait
Who in their hunger hardly care to wait
Unless then patience proves to be their need
They’d rather cut your throat and watch you bleed,
To eat then of the heart and soul of man
Or of the female breast however sweet.
To them you are yet but a piece of meat.
And love and lust are only means and ways
To separate you early from your days
The wolf devours and the raven scraps.
Their eyes follow after you.
Their breath sets traps.
Sickly sweet and seeping with the night.
You lie awake still staring at the light.
The bulb a buzz of human discontent
You toss and turn for where the hours went.
Then wander through your days as though a dream
Until you are become that which you feared
And the animal beneath your skin appears.
The flesh it rips first open is your own,
The lengthening of nails and teeth and bone,
Until from two legs you are down to four,
And all you ever think about is more.
I will find you there in the moon’s clear shine,
And show you all the ways that you are mine.
Teri Skultety