Running with Wolves
What if they were a knife edged gift of the twilight?
Only able to be created from pain and fear.
Gifts to the soul from a hidden part that still breathed freely.
Would that be why they're now silenced and still?
Or is it that in finding the joy, I find less time to think on my feelings
as I'm too busy living.
Too busy finding my feet, feeling the warmth of the sun on my bare skin
No longer hiding the tears in words, waiting to be found by someone
- Anyone -
What if I never find them again, will I miss them?
Or will they find me... when I least expect them to and the winds of emotions
blow the card house down,
and it all tumbles around me?
Maybe if I keep running with the wolves of happiness,
they will keep the twilight at bay for me.
For I am now Alpha.