- Joined
- Feb 25, 2021
- Messages
- 189
- Reaction score
- 546
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Feast of the Wolf
My aching feet now trouble inbound;
winding, dark woods who ache for the sound
of waving banners of ribbons red
To cast away the beast whose hills I found
With eyes aflame inside his head
Haunting paths I have since fled;
What wicked, wailing cries he gave!
He who drove me to lands unfed;
To open doors like yawning graves
that world which left Lycanroc unslain.
Bewitched they are; their dancing feet
beckon forth sharp teeth who crave.
And yet as night grows crisp and sweet
my eye upon those soon to meet
his starving jaw, his wretched claw
their lilting voices bring drought to sleep.
By searing mists I wake with awe
of sunsoft windows fresh in thaw,
and in icy dew upon the sill,
lay a fish gifted from the beast's own maw.
My aching feet now trouble inbound;
winding, dark woods who ache for the sound
of waving banners of ribbons red
To cast away the beast whose hills I found
With eyes aflame inside his head
Haunting paths I have since fled;
What wicked, wailing cries he gave!
He who drove me to lands unfed;
To open doors like yawning graves
that world which left Lycanroc unslain.
Bewitched they are; their dancing feet
beckon forth sharp teeth who crave.
And yet as night grows crisp and sweet
my eye upon those soon to meet
his starving jaw, his wretched claw
their lilting voices bring drought to sleep.
By searing mists I wake with awe
of sunsoft windows fresh in thaw,
and in icy dew upon the sill,
lay a fish gifted from the beast's own maw.
Fun fact: the reference to red ribbons was an actual tradition in old wolf hunting! Since they're such skittish creatures, people would tie strings of red ribbons in an enclosed space because the wolves refused to cross them. Makes me terribly sad to think about, but it's a fun visual for poems! ^^;