The Lone Wolf

A poem about being different & how sometimes because of that we find ourselves alone

I must admit I am completely lost.
My world has changed;
my friends have all moved on to separate spheres.
Yet I remain
a tempest tossed
an outsider, among my peers.

So my mind is forced to wander
down the empty corridors of self-enforced seclusion
it is the world outside I ponder
as the day breaks,
and the night wakes;
further illuminating this illusion.

I am left to wax and wan
as my wick burns down its bole.
Here I find I rest upon,
a sheet of aimless soul.

It is a simple thought
without reason that precludes,
the voice of the ambient moon
and its brief interludes.
A melody caught
but then lost in the tune,
like a bounty of reason
or an unobtainable boon.

It sets in motion
a plight of its own,
as wolves of emotion
We are often meant to walk alone.