PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was once a wolf, free and biting, leader and punisher. I was Alpha and the ones around me felt my presence, found comfort and solace in my acceptance into the back. But I fell from grace. I cannot be my wolf without remembering how the Alpha was brought to her knees by someone so below her. Showed her throat to the enemy who was dressed as her lover.  What kind of Alpha am I if I had let my heart run before my head? I put my pack behind me and put the girl with shining eyes and hair she let me wrap my hands in into the foreground.

            How can I be my wolf if my wolf is not a real leader? My wolf, so Dominant and too Submissive, how do I forget the power I held in my hands, how do I forget the feeling of my knees hitting the floor? I don’t know if I ever will, or if I even want to.

Yet she asks me to. And the question makes me still, I can feel her stirring within me, and I don’t know if it is thrill or fight.