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He who walks with wolves braves the unknown.

Gargoyle eyes dine carnivorously calm against tower dawn
sight black to white, with wings gently caressing stone
it’s still, with only a few puddles amongst the tenderness
worthy of his charm, nothing comes closer to his existence
dine in out of fierce competition, considering a splash of plasma
each night they come below the glass for a quick glance
here it’s a dance of meals to satisfy his robust desire
what a human doesn’t understand becomes their ultimate sacrifice.

Categories: Poetry

Comments (2)

  • Natasha . February 11, 2013 . Reply

    Bradley! This is fantastic!

    • (Author) Bradley Howington . February 11, 2013 . Reply

      Thank you so much, Natasha. I struggled with letting this piece go, but the gargoyle must fly. Sometimes it’s very difficult for me to let my poems go, but you must part with them eventually (never completely), of course. ♥

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