The Exile Poem by Ann Jensen

Why? Why? Is the cry in the night.
The howl of alone, far away.
Padding through the wilderness of night-smell.
Panting for air.
Screaming out passions in the midst of heavens edging towards abyss.

Deadly claws clicking on rock mountains.
Render them dead or possess them.
Never give them free.
Never to scamper in frost-light without the watchful eye...hateful eye...of alone.

Damp,
Dark,
Cave of fear.
Sheltered from wind by weeping walls.
Prisoner of tremble-cold blindness.

Battle and death become free in the wind.
Feel the night-smells.
Scream out the passions of alone, far away.