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guy scutellaro
Poems
Oct 6
the prisoner
and as he was led down those hallow halls
he hummed the melody
of the song he had come to know, too well,
my friend,
and he was forgotten by the hammer of justice
reaching from the obsidian night, soul lost
in the song without words
the angry sky's mournful lament
the wild howl of the wolf
hidden in the hinterland of his heart
the leaves are frozen on the trees
and every wolf must howl
and every wolf must run
through the glass night,
when no heart will beat for him
where no soul can find him.
Written by
guy scutellaro
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