The Lone Howl

Distraught. Depressed. Unhappy. Alone. All associated with useless, unappreciated, cast aside, unloved, unimportant. So sad am I. Like a lone howl on a dark and cold summer night. Changing trees signaling the start of fall. The slight breeze picks up taking with it the rustling colored leaves, the first to fall, and that lone wolf’s howl. No one answers that howl. The lone cry and plea for others to come, if anyone is out there. No full moon, but a new. No one to answer his calls. No one to listen. To understand. To see behind that second curtain. Like a play with many scenes. A colored and a black behind it. One opens for the other to remain closed as next scenes prepare. No one knows what goes on behind that second curtain. Speculation. Murmurs through a crowd. Hush those murmurs. Go see for yourself. Too selfish. Too busy. Too blind. Hear the howl of the lone wolf and see what is behind his second curtain. Though, it does not matter now. No, it is too late for that lone wolf. Drowning in despair. Drowning in sorrow. To be numb. His only wish now. To forget. To care not. To have life, but not live. Only death await that lone wolf now. Still howling in the lone of night. Do you hear his lone howl? As you read this right now, do you feel his pain? When the next lone wolf comes along, will you save her?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Only in a dark place do my inspirations come.

LutherSeahand's picture

Mine too, sometimes.

Mine too, sometimes.