The Sorrow Cry

With my arm and legs glimmering red
with a puddling blood.
I inhale the forest scent,
catching some smell of blood.
Feeling like I'm flying like a hawk
I lie down in my puddle of blood,

A long sorrowful cry echos the forest's trees
it reverberates in my bones, sending chills down my very spine.
But... at the same time it's sorrowful is also relaxing.
I let out a long sorrowful cry to mimic it.

How it reverberates in my bones, how it echos off the trees
how sorrowful it is to mimic my very sadness.
I cease to howl, look at the knife, wanting to slice my throat.

A rustle interrupt me, I look at where it is.
A beautiful wolf stand there, as pure black as black can be.
With some sort of a white mark on its forehead.
That mimics the symbol of the Taurus sign.
He walks toward me, paw the knife away, and sit next to me.

Then he lets out a long sorrowful cry,
I join him.
The chorus of the sorrowful cry
echos and reverberates all around.

I smile as I cease,
he then begin to walk away.
How I wish to join him, but I've cut my leg
badly that I cannot walk,
so bad on my arms as well that I cannot crawl.

A voice emerges from the tree opposite side of where the wolf was.
Several hunters walk toward me, concern eyes staring at me.


With casts around my arm and legs, I now
go to the forest and let out a long sorrowful cry
to let this wolf know I'm ok thanks to him.
I always smile, when I hear a long sorrowful cry back.
To know, even the most sorrowful cry
can bring one senses back.

Author's Note

Random poem that got nothing to do with anything, what do you think?

Reviews

[Anthony Q Armstrong]

Pretty cool, I like it :)