By-Samhita Vallamreddy


The night was damp and cold,

But one of twinkling stars and a full Moon.

And hidden by a great tree,

A Lonely Wolf, cried with a croon.


Distant howls sounded through the stillness,

And the Moon smiled at what was to happen.

With a splash and a dabble,

Rose a figure from the Pond, with a face of compassion.


She had long flowy hair,

Wore silver thread and golden glitter.

Beautiful as Venus herself,

With an aura that made the darkness shimmer.


But to her surprise,

The Lonely Wolf didn't even glance;

At her presence as he cried,

Bitterly; in a sad trance.


His fur was matted, no signs of care,

The light inside his eyes was gone.

But the most prominent symptom;

Of his pain, were the cuts on his body, turning fawn.



Three on his right leg,

Two on his cheek.

His snout was scarred horizontally,

Ears drooping in a display of weak.


The figure in the Pond,

Drew near and fell into a kneel.

Caressed the Lonely Wolf,

With a smile and the will to heal.


Lifting his head from its resting spot,

The Wolf blinked at the sudden light.

For it had been days since he moved,

From the spot of his lost might.


With a heavy sigh he explained,

To the questioning entity; the pain.

He envoyed about his lost faith,

And cracked again, reminiscent of the disdain.


For lonely he was,

As the friends he had were befoul.

And the trust he placed in acquaintances;

Was shattered, leaving him distrustful.


But throughout the tale, she smiled.

For the loss he felt was unjust.

And his pain was evident now,

But she knew how to restore his lost trust.


The Wolf's face fell again,

Unwelcome memories resurfacing.

And She watched as he looked up again;

When she spoke, with an intent of conveying.


You need no one, but yourself,

To escape the darkness.

Because you never are alone,

In a world that is equally full of happiness.


And to fight the loneliness away,

You must believe;

That you have one life alone,

So make the most of it and don't grieve.


The night was receding, giving way to the Sun,

The Moon smiled at the shadows waving goodbye.

But hidden by the great tree,

Was no Wolf, but only a Pond reflecting sunlight.



This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon:

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