My Wolf Poem by Nathan Mendell

Lone and Cold
Tone of an endless Hold
Sadness and Sorrow
Madness of Tomorrow
He loves yet Hates
He shoves too Late
Pushing on, feeling Strained
Gushing, bleeding, deeply Pained
His wounds are sore, weak and Worn
His heart is tore, he needs Reborn
Falling to the floor, drawing his last breath
I open the door, just before his death
I pull him inside, bath him in Rain
Heavy and wide, I lay him to rest, his love I Gain
He howls and Moans
Growls and Groans
The healing proceeds, strength Restored
He has many needs, I become a Bore
Released and free, searching not complete
One big oak tree, marks the spot, he can’t be Beat
He has a new home if desired, safety upon Arrival
He will grow tired, in need of revival
I hope he remembers, he is loved and awaited
The burning of embers, greatly frustrated
Will he return? Will his search end?
Twists and turns, my regards I send
A hole in his heart, gaping and empty
He needs a new start, with happiness a plenty
He is a creature, not bulletproof
I am his teacher, and he is my Wolf



Nathan Mendell
4/15/10