Wolves

Here's a third from last Friday. It was actually born out of a few lines I pulled from the last two poems. This actually all started as one giant superpoem

I kind of like this one. It's a little more meaningful than the last two...

"Wolves (Slightly Incoherent #3)"

There are wolves at the door,
they howl in the yard.
While the sheep lay and wait,
all pretty white and dressed in garlands,
ready for the slaughter.

We will go willingly,
we aren't even smart enough,
to be afraid.
I won't shout when I feel the teeth,
biting into my neck.
I don't mind,
because I barely feel it.
Apathy, you are devouring me.
And the whole world can suffer,
and I might not feel it.

Why aren't we screaming?
Why don't I care about the hurting?
this world is reeling under the weight,
of all this pain,
but I've got happiness buried
like a seed,
buried in my heart.
And my head,
why aren't I screaming?
About You, why aren't I screaming Your name?

Jesus give me the strength,
to go where people are dying,
among the living dead,
and leave behind not a graveyard,
nor a tomb full of cobwebs,
but a garden beautiful,
and blooming bright.