Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
The pines whisper in the wake of your fury
Shaking from the earth in chords
C
       o
            s
                m
                    i
         ­                 c

Winds whip at my royal fur
Grinding my night skin with frost and rime
I swear to you my sold soul is no place to sleep.
Love isn't accepted by these fangs of misguided  pride
It's in my burning hours you'll see my core
made of silver
And my eyes bursting with gold
Shoot me dead, but I refuse to back down
Light me anew purpose
And I'll still fall back on my instincts
Dragons have run their claws in my side
But I care not. I'll bleed a conceded trail
My paw prints left in the deep of space to the cedar forests
I run on for someone I swore an oath to protect
My poet is my blood in my veins
She is the words in my voice
She is my beating heart,
*.::.The only thing that keeps me going.::.
Ahkira
© Copywrite Lycan
LycanTheThrope
Written by
LycanTheThrope  Chasing the Moon
(Chasing the Moon)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems