Object
Imprisoned here in
dreams of your making
Held captive by your
selfish objectifications
You don’t want to know
me you want Fantasy
A plaything to be
captured and kept at will
The object of your
desire doesn't exist
I am thundering herds
of wild horses
And what could you do
with these
But watch in terrified
wonder
Amazed and dumbfounded
Gaze a moment into my
haunting eyes
I am no creature to be
tamed or corralled
I am a Tempast; A pack
of hungry Wulfs
And you would keep me
here in a box, dying
If you could manage to
capture this Wildness
I would devour every morsel
of your Selfishness
And go feed my hungry pack
of wolves
With a meal of your
empty soul
Could you take my
Wildness?
No