Pieces Of People, Pieces Of Life-Hiraeth.

Hiraeth.

Hiraeth: Welsh for a deep, wistful, nostalgic sense of longing for home; a home that is no longer, or perhaps never was. A yearning and wistful grief for people and things long gone.

Feral, potent, divine

They do not blend well

But, for you,

They're the perfect ones

Dominant, destructive, protector

You are

Your amber eyes

Beautiful and wise

'The Wolf' I once called you

I still remember

How you smiled

When I told you useless tales

Of my life

That you'd probably forget

I still remember

Your passionate eyes

How they'd glow in anger

When I'd shed a tear

I still remember

That time

You held me

To make up

For our problems

And calm our souls

You are my Lupus Deus

The one

And the only

So surreal

I feel like the moon

Whom you preach

The divinity

In our serenity

You are my moon

Dear wolf

Under your care

I wish to be

It is your face

I wish to see

Smiling at me

When my breath

Leaves my body

When I go

To The Land Of No Return

Where

I wait

For your soul

To arrive

Forgetting

You're immortal

As my soul

Ages and dies

For you

Never will