shadow

Within the forest dark,

I limp towards my den with-

the flawed heart that embraces-

the night.

 

Beneath the waning moon,

neither love nor hale will-

emerge to me as the figure-

i seek on the pathway to-

perfection where lies,woe,

grief,covetous summits are-

the rebels who dwell with-

fiery hearts of ferocity. 

 

With ambitious sights no more,

I'm now once again a cub-

zeroing in on the target of emptiness.

Nothing,nothing,nothing-

there is nothing for me to hunt.

 

Roaring no more but groaning

is the way to grip exhortation from-

the heaven who does not speak.

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

Love the first line ...Within the forest dark, with its inverted adjective. Like the line ....love nor hale...., too, or did you mean hate? Whatever,a good poem that sticks to its subject with lots of good imagery.Well done.

[Coyote Poetry]

Even the hunter must find a place to rest and know peace. I like the story in this poem. Took me to many places with strong description. I like how you ended the amazing poem. Thank you for the outstanding poem.
Coyote

[stars are far]

this was so nicley done ;)

[Thea]

Excellent work...And I will say it again, putting a picture will make this even better...
:)))