Howling

Author: Stephen W. Cote

I'll never concede to night

Now, I gaze at the pale moon light

As though my mind was diseased

And wracked and wreathed

In a halo of sinful sight

I'll never curse my home land

Now, I cry out like the damned

My body is ready to reave

It shirks, it shrieks

With poison in my glands

While tending to a forest song

I felt strong, but knew all along

From the voice I heard

In the sound , and words

A question: where do I belong?

I taste the spirit in the wind

As I cry at the night again

Forever the moon draws near

My thoughts pure and clear

I cry in a canyon without end

As though my mind was diseased

And my body ready to reave

I cry into the wind