people, sometimes, are caged inside themselves, tortured, repressing themselves of telling the whole world about their pain, but then...it gets too heavy, too excruciating, and the howls come...

Caged humanity, howling in utterly despair,
man made cocoon shadows all of them inside,
the unlighted dungeon are Devil’s conception
God was the only one out there holding Light,
they aren’t the angels rattling on man’s cages,
cos in His Universe there aren’t good or bad,
just mindless children without understanding
that breathing wasn’t granted for them to have.

Wolves howling at the moon, former eagles
that roamed over mountains in a previous life,
or the wailing of prairies coyotes everywhere
lamenting themselves the lack of tender lambs,
sometimes the wind will arrive here ululating
complains from far away places forgotten now,
where willow trees let down their green hair
until Jack Frost came filling everything with ice.

The fabric of nightmares, like Munch’s Scream,
a human being howling in utterly despair of man,
emerging from the fog of a breathless little world
trying to reach help where there’s none to find,
mouths petrified in a primal soundless scream
you think only God hear, but the Universe can
hold forever the reverberating echoes of despair
for eons and eons, until the end of all your cries.