Barren Wilderness

FTF Tree

Through the undressed trees, the wind howls
a wild shriek of fury spent, but never quashed
A thin voice wavers, yet still it’s heard…
There’s nothing to be done, for I am lost

A wild shriek of fury spent, but never quashed
despite the vanquished, despite the insurgence
of boldness, the resolve towards supremacy

A thin voice wavers, yet still it’s heard
Above the roar that stains the dark lit sky
A noise in vain, the resonance of defiance

There’s nothing to be done, for I am lost
my will long spent amid the damage
my withered bones to lay forgotten


© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

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The Hunter

THE HUNTER

 

Shadowed night, where willows tower,

A stranger baring blunt knife kneels.

Carnivorous, hooded eyes scour.

He listens to my clicking heels.

 

Moon-beams cast through branches quiver.

My trembling heart and blood congeals.

Echoes through the canyon shiver.

He listens to my clicking heels.

 

The stranger crawls beneath the sage.

There’s no-one ‘round to hear the squeals.

He aims his knife at my rib-cage.

He listens to my clicking heels.

© All Rights Reserved Caroline Adele O’Brien