Upon the pyre
He burns
The Sun's precious one
The skies weep
The Moon's light
Is gone.
The witches incense
On altars ancient, burn.
The hallowed heavens break open
The damned embers of hell
Shut.
His ashes spread
As his flames rise.
His wolf
Lies dead
As his soul dies.
Fingers once claws,
Now,
But embers burned.
Muzzle once fanged,
Now,
But jaws wholly disband.
The child of the Twin Lights
Now,
But a vestige of voided night.
The jungles he roamed
Now plains.
The prey he chased
Rejoice unchained.
His howl
That once,
Touched heaven
Has now been silenced
Never to be spoken.
The man who was wolf
Lord of the hunt
Merciful and just
Prideful and mighty
A true righteous one...
He is now...
Naught.
Let me weep.
For my dear one sleeps.
Let me howl.
For my heart bleeds.
I hold no tears back.
The stars cry with me.
Angels and demons
Gods and devils
Hear me.
An injustice has been done to me.
And my heart has been wronged.
I am full of woe
And my hands are ashen.
I hear the witches laugh.
Their feared enemy is done.
The deer walks with pride
For the Hunter is dead.
A thousand curses
And a hundred condemnations
Upon these fiends who laugh at my suffering.
For where shall we find one like him again?
To whom shall we turn?
Nay!
For none could wear could wear the skin of men like he,
And still be more Wolf than all other beasts.
I have cried out my tears...
So has Mother Moon.
I have ripped out my hair...
So has Father Sun.
I have wrung my hands...
So have the Fae Ones.
I have beat my chest...
So have the Dark Ones...
Now, I shall hide my eyes...
Just like the Dead Ones.
For there be nothing of worth
Nay! Nothing
For me to see.
It is a sad world
In which Gevaudan's Beast has been put to sleep.
Yes!
It is a woeful one indeed.
YOU ARE READING
Azrael's Whispers
PoetryPoems with a deep meaning... Naaahhh!!!! I started writing these poems because, books were not cutting it for me! So much is bottles up inside of me and the fact that I can have a pretty dark and morbid imagination didn't help! Then I heard "Therapy...
