Lone Wolf (Poetry)

I walk as a lone wolf, finding life in my Creator’s look;

The world keeps pulling at my soul, but my name is in the Book.

We’ve lost the scent of holiness, the essence thieves once took—

He is the King who moves with power, and I am but a rook.

Life plays like chess—each choice a risk, a triumph, or a fluke—

Yet still I walk the path alone, the quiet, steady lone wolf.

One day you’re standing in the light, the next you’re gone—just poof;

But did you leave the salt of grace, and what remains as proof?

This life won’t hand you ease or rest; sometimes you take the boot.

Don’t trade your soul for glittering lies, the money or the loot.

So I keep walking through the night, the world’s misunderstood brute—

Still choosing to be the lone wolf.

I’m social, yes, but solitude is where my heart is wooed;

My Maker shaped resilience deep for every shifting mood—

Especially when I face the ones whose spirits turn to crude.

I’ve dropped the bite, laid down the fight; I won’t become that dude

Howling wild at empty skies when God alone can soothe.

He licks my wounds with mercy’s balm; His healing is my truth.

From Black Sheep Clergy to lone wolf, I’ve searched since early youth

For who I am before the Lord, for purpose, name, and truth.

And still I walk—yet not alone—for Christ defines my route,

A lone wolf, yes, but held by God, my Shepherd absolute.