A Wolf Keeps Watch
by Michael Doyle

Like a wolf into a flock of sheep
Their troubled souls, he would keep
For he was a reformed wolf standing guard against the enemy
And there were questions of one's dignity

Points of contention still must be proved true
And that is often a matter of point of view
Evidenced by the traces on the frozen ground
Things half buried waiting to be found

Suspicions required their solid evidence
While the innocent still pray to Providence
That they are kept safe from the Devil's hand
While the survivors simply with to understand

Some things, however, won't be understood
The wolf knows this as he should
He stands his ground to work this out
With a wounded heart and head of doubt

It's the moving hostiles forced into play
Where giving ground gives way without say
Their words not his in a silent hustle
Where shivered shake finds its own bustle

There are no prayers in this tainted corruption
Where all involved know their final destination
The favor to this flavor smells something rotten
Degraded and destroyed, yet, all but forgotten

Except by those who keep their love in prayer
Even as they yet crawl up their lonely stairs
And the wolf will do as much as he can
Though God knows he's not a holy man

Truth is its own side hustle in this blur
Where random thoughts  are lived as they occur
The street will age every soul it touches
With its stick even as the guilty blushes

Tears in eyes, the tale is told
And the wolf wishes his soul wasn't sold
As he looks into the eyes of the last innocent child
Determined that she will not be defiled

Collared as these are, the tears fall
In obedience to a God, he can barely recall
Some things are harder than death
The wolf mumbles a prayer under his breath

(c) September 5, 2020  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved