MY SWORD OF PASSION
Sometimes when words are locked in my mind,
And my weapon, the pen finds the paper unlined.
In a fight for life, I must follow the light,
Letting passion of the sword to take flight.
To right natures wrongs, to ensure blurred lines are redrawn,
Using my pen as a pawn, for the promise of tomorrows wolf’ songs.
I just think of the passion that is bottled inside,
Gives strength and devotion to lengthen my stride!
But on occaision a beast circles over my head.
The fire breathing dragon is what I most dread;
The foul acrid air of burnt words and more,
Threaten to burn down creativity’s door.
Will I duel with the dragon, and fight fire with fire?
Will I have to don armor and fly with wings on a wire?
It will depend on the dragon’s defense, but am I really up to the test?,
My sword of passion has never failed, My devotion to wildlife will take care of the rest.
There is so little sence in mans vast expanse, his morality seems in a trance,
To much is at risk to leave the futue wolves and habitat happenstance.
So I must take up the sword as I have done all my life,
Knowing truth and honor cannot be denied!