Of Wolf and Man

This essay is dedicated to a few random, ambiguous and seemingly musically incorrect chords played together… starts with Am-Asus2-Am-Asus2 ..…….. and so on……

The coldest day under darkness. It would have arrived one way or the other. The lonely, meek wolf woke up from his dark sleep. Sleep of ignorance. of self pity, of dreams. May be just tired, tired of blindfolded-ness, of sleeping, of desires. His heavy eyelids could bear no more rest.

His meekness was defined by the long sleepless whips by the better called humans. From the wee stages of his penalization process he was forced to like being locked up in a 4x4 cell. The iron bars blocking his independence and roars from the rest of the free world seemed to shout out their duties more than any other thing.

Mr. Wolf would stand up every morning and beat against the bars and the little opening he was served eatable substance from. Smell of rotten flesh filled the ambience of the cell. The beating would blood his head and he would stop.

Today was one of those days. And somehow he did not want to beat. The fleshy ambience, the semi-dark alley in front of him which looked at him always seemed to convince his senses to follow the rules and appear tamed in front of the tamers. The black rods would chuckle at its comfort of not being beaten a morning.

It then began with no good reason or purpose. Wolfy would hit his nose hard at the door and come back to hit again. His blood was no longer a reason to stop.

The chaos brought in the gun guarded humen (read as: more than one human) to the other end of the alley. They pushed rounds of fires to dissolve the rage of the beast. But he was not to stop till death.

Did rust do the trick or persistence was a question. The running wolf would prow and feed on blood red flesh of his tamers. Rounds of bullets kept screaming along with his joy.

Matter of minutes, as they say, and the tamers were lost or tamed.

At the end of the alley started another and was locked looking at another dark one. Towards infinity - towards freedom.

Wolf sat down to think of his 4x4 cell. The difference as it stood now was he had a bigger cell. A bigger place to be locked in.

Hush wolf, hush. Even the world is a cell.
Thither, better in this hell.
As cells grow bigger in size,
After every hard earned less learned fight.
So does your senses fool you;
Between damp dark walls new.
Spell soon for the next boon
When you have to fight again.
And there would lay the infinite loop
Of wait-war-wait.
Wait-War-Wait.

Let it be, Just let it be.

-A
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