LONE WOLF
Lone Wolf
stirs his coffee
staring
to middle distance.
This new world of his
devoid of meaning
no line of resistance.
Stained by old habits
trained for movements
his mechanised character
spring compressed
Lone Wolf
with weary eyes
still sharp
used to hear the pin drop
now doors slamming
nerves fraying
uncertain dreams of praying
his mind a list discontinued
tick box the chase
an unknown face before death
impressed like a shroud
Lone Wolf in a crowd.
Those days of clean kills now over
flagwavers
prayer puppets
strung up on indulgent gods
making demands
self destructing
no taste
getting all the attention
Lone Wolf
stirs his coffee
no children to read to
to turn the light out for
no centres of operations
galaxies of challenge
now a supermarket and flats
where once were marble steps
to intrigue
his all day breakfast
lasts too long
growing cold with the pondering
footsore with aimless wandering.
The empty flat has a view
over middle distance
passing clouds unknowing
unwavering.
raypool
Fri 4th Nov 2016 17:05
Very nice of you Suki I appreciate your input .
David, what more can I say. I thoroughly appreciate your input with all the weight you bring to such matters and in that regards I view your comments as a giant compliment . It's nice to see one's intentions hit a mark and in accord.
Some thoughts come to mind from what you have written; could there by perhaps a sort of addiction to adrenalin in these experiences, as in extreme demands on one's resources. Does life become fully formed in danger? I would expect that to be the case.
Love back. Ray