Lonely now,
As I always was,
I cry the lonely cry,
Of a wolf.
The moon is mine and only,
And it shines so brightly,
The stars are mine to contemplate.
The hunters took away my cubs,
They slaughtered them,
And hung their hides outside their huts,
They skinned them with rusty knives,
And ate their meat.
My children will not howl,
The way I howl now,
The lone wolf's cry,
Echoes into the lonely sky.
The people complain,
Of the noise I make,
But did they hear my cubs,
As they called out in agony.
Did they hear the father,
Calling,
Did they hear me howling,
Falling.
Do they understand now,
I'm allowed to cry now,
Mourning.
Now they tell each other,
Lets hunt the wolves,
Gives the hides to the butcher.
But now in the night theyre forced to listen,
As I cry,
As I cry to the moon.
They took my baby cubs,
Because they said they were dangerous.
I mean them no harm,
But they took my children,
Now they'll have to listen,
They'll just have to listen,
As I cry.
See all poetry
See all poetry
See all poetry