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The Hour of the Wolf

3am, the Wolf's Hour - and I am lost.
Weaving shadows thread in an arachnids net,
Suspended before his eyes, my soul's tossed,
Inverting from within, meaning's silhouette.
The Wolf's rule is law - The arbiter of sleep:
Nothing is sacred- childhood hopes nor fear.
From a parliament of dreams no tyrant reaps,
Hallucinogenic leers serve to domineer.
Held in his grip by the abyss, I toss
I turn; yearning the end of the nocturne.
While most men lie with nature's nurse - Oh Loss
Feral hunt by Gabriel's Hounds; end my turn!

The thousand eyes of night, by day turn one,
While by stencilled stars, the wolf awaits in wanton.
"The Hour of the Wolf is the hour between night and dawn. It is the hour when most people die, when sleep is deepest, when nightmares are most real. It is the hour when the sleepless are haunted by their deepest fear, when ghosts and demons are most powerful." Ingmar Bergman

Hour of the Wolf is a adaptation of Shakespearean sonnet form.

Also inspired by a scene of Babylon 5.
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Submitted on
December 4, 2011
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