Lone Wolf Poetics

I'm in hiding
Biding my time
Praying for a sign
These words of mine
Will not fall on deaf ears.
My messages define fears
And grind gears.
Each stroke of my pen
Blends heartache and danger
To the point my hand shakes with anger
I have filled a garbage can
With broken pens!
When I sit down to write
I commit to a fight:
The page is my adversary
My vocabulary my weaponry
But take heed my advisory
I wish NOT to be legendary!
I simply have comments to be made
A small boat in ocean I wade.
Weaving and leaning a perfect meaning
I am constructing a structure
To resist your construct of destruction
Deconstructing poetic structure
To construct a hidden meaning
That does not exist!
This is my voice, a clenched fist
A killshot that will not be missed!
Shot from a gun - my violent mind
That cried biblical tides
Hearing Brandon's soul Leake
Every time he stepped on stage to speak!
Some may think the poets liars
But we ignite fires illuminating night
And spill horror you blissfully ignore
These words, as beautiful as décor
Are my instruments of war!
These words, as beautiful as décor
Are my instruments of war
That is why I cannot be torn away
Why I prefer to spend time alone
Battling my emotions
And rattling words unto stone
I am a poetic lone wolf howling at the moon.
Driven by the tune of all strife
That accompanies this thing called life
If my hope is to find a wife,
I must merry my mistress
For I am forever indebted
To the call of white pages
Until they become indented
I am powerless against their coquetted alure.
Although I never intended for her love
To become cemented in rhyme, my love
Our time will not be lamented.
This is my heart, soul, everything I own
Laid out bare upon a throne
So, take it with love and let it grow,
Or let it die and turn to stone,
Whichever peaks your aesthetic
I will forevermore speak as
Lone Wolf Poetics!