Wolves Poem by Albert Arsenio Sison

the boy who cried wolves
sison
june 6,2008
12: 14pm.


the wolves are more than willing
to take me to where they feast
wanting, craving for satisfaction
above a temple's ruined altar
they lash out at each other
wanting, craving for the best piece
my safety has long abandoned me
taking even my last hope
as the music stop playing inside my ear
my only source of calmness
then fear turns flesh into dessert dust
when the wolves growl at the moon
they worship and they dance
and they kill and they play,
using me as their toy
gnawing at my arms bared to the bones
run... run... my legs are dead...
breath... breath.. i still can
but for how long! ?
only wishful thinking keeps me alive
thinking about the time i will truly escape my fragility
again and again same things happen...
the wolves... they grow in numbers...
they want the best piece i can offer
i can only offer so much...
i can offer only so much...
who would find my cause?
who would care to find one for me?
another candle lit at the altars foot
another sacrifice to the coldness of the floor
my heart beats the wrong way
the wolves are calling...
the wolves are growling...
now i stare at the wine beside me
my eyes... they are not mine...
a wolf's eyes staring directly through the wine glass...
is it the wolves... or those eyes are my own! ?