The Wolf and the Moon

A white wolf with blue eyes,
He doesn't hide in the clothing of sheep.
He won't succumb to society's lies,
For his heart and soul are much too deep.

Howling at the wind, he worships the moon
She's his sweetest love, his only muse.
He misses her in the daytime, but soon,
She will rise and their hearts, they fuse.

She doesn't speak but he feels her heart,
Sending vibrations to his although he laments,
That in this life they are apart.
But rejoices in the next one. Eminence.

Those coming days keep him hopeful as he cried,
Desire too much for his soul to take.
But god to see it with his own eyes,
When over that lonely cliff, she wakes.

Nighttime is his time, with his love
To sing to her and feel her caring gaze.
Some day he'll fly up to her, above,
Above all the forgotten waiting in his days.

Now it's nighttime forever,
His favorite time in all his years.
The moon and he are finally together,
And she sings to him now, as fate is here.

Reviews

[The Iron Horseman]

Very nice, Mariah. As a lover of wolves, this particularly appealed to me. The idea of the wolf adoring the moon is very appealing.

[Mariah Lynn Thompson]

Thank you!

[The Iron Horseman]

You're welcome.