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You.
You came to us, longing to start anew
We let you in, like all wrecks do
But not in too deep:
Not to the point where you'd know about the strangers beneath,
The black sheep.

You got misguided towards the better part, the packs
We weren't surprised
After all, you were trained to do that
It was only a matter of time before they advised you against us,
Before you were baptised.
But wouldn't you have wished to know, we were there:
Clad in calm, I mirrored the snarl -
And you and your beasts saw kin, not prey
Until it was too late.
You spent hours looking for black sheep amongst the herds, a break through
But doesn't black blend beautifully with slate?
We were
                  a
            m
     o
n
g    
s        
t            
you.
And then you saw them:
My people, my family, my friends
And growled, whining for help
Not knowing I'd aid them instead.

But this wasn't enough of a break through (ours, not yours)
We didn't have what we needed
Didn't like the cards we were dealt
So we stayed hidden all this time
My boys, my girls and I
And bid our time till the clock struck midnight
Till we were free from your ties

That's when the lights f l i c k e r e d

Oh, what a silent soul
What a blatant light
What a piteous cause
Turned to dynamite
You thought you saw us?
Well, now you do
At the head of the forest
They said we didn't belong to
Best of all, we shook you
By doing better that what they'd asserted they'd do
And the rest have grown to love us
More than they'd ever loved you.
Based on a little story I made in my head ;)
my brothers, be vigilant
there is a traitor among us
a wolf in sheep's clothing
an assassin with a knife and a smile
he is biding his time
waiting patiently
for the opportune moment
to unleash his terror
be ever so watchful
he has come for blood
and until he gets it
he will not depart
find him you must
**** him out quick
throw him to the wolves
where he will perish
Emery Feine Jul 24
That rabbit with the purest of white fur
Into the jaws of that wolf, it dived
But while that wolf thought about dinner
The rabbit thought of every way to survive
?RENROC A OTNI DEKCAB MEES I OD
silence Jul 17
In porcelain skin, you seek to hide,
the stains of shame, the weight inside,
you call yourself a doll, a lamb so white,
an innocent thing, untouched by night.

But pink-hued dreams, and rosary beads,
can't wash away the secrets you've concealed,
the whispers in the dark, the choices made,
the ghosts that haunt, the paths you've strayed.

You cling to symbols of a bygone age,
a nostalgic longing for a simpler stage,
but innocence, like youth, is lost in time,
and no amount of prayer can rewind the crime.

The colour pink, a fragile, fading hue,
can't cover up the truth, the things you've been through,
the fears that grip, the doubts that creep,
the shadows that haunt, the demons that seep.

You're scared of God, of judgment's might,
of being seen, of being cast into the night,
but rosaries, like talismans, can't keep at bay,
the darkness that lurks, the fears that stray.

Oh, lamb, oh doll, oh innocent thing,
you're not as pure as you would have them sing,
you're complex, messy, multifaceted, and worn,
a tapestry of flaws, of trials, and of scorn.
You can’t turn to God to repent if all you’ve done is blame him for your wrongs.
Midnight makes no sound when it arrives.

Silently deadly you sneak into my bones,
sweetly deadly you nest inside.
With no time to escape
and too scared to play dead.

Night craves for no light
and my only shelter is my own flesh
but oh wait,
you are already inside.

Silently deadly like a virus,
sweetly deadly like love.

Every day at dusk, I hide.
But oh wolf,
you have to find me only once.

Loudly blatantly you munch my bones,
delightfully blatantly you nest inside.


[Another recurrence of the Devotion Rot habit—spilled as art.]
A love that spreads like an infection through your body - never asking for permission, just taking what it owns. A love that feels too good to be right. A passion too big to describe. A dark love we would love to feel, and yet we dread. What a lovely way to love.
alex Jun 8
Why? you ask,
Why do you hide?
For protection-
because it’s safer,
than being seen.

If all I must do is lie,
wear a snarling mask,
bare sharp teeth
so they don’t hurt me,
I will.

I’ve learned to walk
like I belong with the pack,
echo their growls,
So they
keep their distance.

I pretend to be the ones I’ve feared,
I hunt and harm,
not because I want to,
but to hide
among the wolves of the world.

But still-
to lie for protection
does not make me good,
So, really,
I am no better than a wolf
in sheep’s clothing.
Cadmus Jun 2
🐺

The more I understand man
and what he’s capable of…

the more I am convinced
the wolf was framed

and Little Red
wrote the story.

🧣🧣
Interpretations are often shaped by those who survive to tell the tale. Sometimes, the villain is just the one without a voice.
Sam S May 9
I clawed my way from winter’s mouth…
the wolf that fed on memory and rot.
Its hunger had no end,
and I was the feast.

But I tore loose.
With bloodied breath and crooked spine,
I rose.

In the forest of endings,
a bear’s voice called…
half lament,
half command.
It knew my name
when I had none.

The stars spun in reverse.
The cycle cracked
like glass under weight.
And in the hush that followed,
a flame stirred.

It spoke:

“Come, child.
You are the death
of forgetting.”

And somewhere,
deep in the trees,
another wolf stirred…
not the devourer,
but not yet known.
Its eyes burned with something ancient,
its breath was the wind.

It waits.

And when it steps forward…
which wolf will it be
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