Tribute To A Life Long Past - iii: Tale Of The White Wolf

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Tribute To A Life Long Past
iii: Tale Of The White Wolf
By Everett A Warren
May 28, 1990

Twice upon a time, I sat in candlelight, flickering dreams distorted.
What is reality when dreams are so easily envisioned.

Late at night I sit awake, I feel no warmth from the fires that give life.
I look to the shadows that move, twisted visions borne by an unsound mind.

Twenty five, they march in line, chanting, I blink once, the monks are gone.
What is this, that my life has come to this, I ask, shadows answer as one, I turn away.

Upon the face of the clock I see the hour approaching and I shiver,
Hate to face the hour alone.

From the corner of my eyes, blur of white catches my eye,
I stare into eyes reflecting turbulent skies, has the beast come to claim me at last.
Primeval howl breaks the silence as twelve strikes the clock,
I shake with fear as the white wolf bares it's fangs.
Across winter's path I travel, a slave to time, I follow the white wolf.
Blizzards rage around me, hailstones shatter my strength, wake from the dream.

Marble monuments crested in heavenly snow, I stand alone.
There is a name upon the stone, it catches my eye, it is mine.

Ancient grounds of ceremony lie dormant in their wake
As tired eyes stare wearily through measures of trusting solitude.
Tranquil thoughts of unsought rhymes speak to abstract falsifications of realism,
As I warm to candlelight, the white wolf fades before lifeless eyes.

Copyright (c) 1990 Everett A Warren