So what I posted before was... not my best work, but some of my better work. I chose those to post those two because they were personal favorites. Now I will post some of what I have heard is my best work.
Warning: some of these poems may contain furry content (ideas or characters/speakers related to the furry fandom (for example, the speaker could be an anthropomorphic wolf (a wolf that has gained human qualities both physically and mentally (walks on two legs, can think critically, pretty much a human brain in a wolf with a slightly more human like physical appearance)))
Lone Wolf (Impossible Dream): the first serious poem I have ever written. Warning, this poem contains anthropomorphic animals, which is why the speaker has fur and a muzzle.
I lay waiting for dreams to fill my head and wash away the stresses of the day.
I close my eyes and you appear there lying next to me. I feel the warmth of your close embrace.
I feel the soft fur on your body pressed up against mine.
The white patches of your fur reflect the moonlight, a light keeping me out of darkness.
I feel your warm breaths on my face, your muzzle laying upon mine.
The only sounds are of the trees swaying in the wind and our breathing.
Everything is peaceful.
I open my eyes to darkness. I shiver in the cold air, staring at the spot where you were laying only seconds ago.
An impossible dream.
The Last Poem: the third serious poem I have written.
This is the last poem I will ever write.
Just like the last artwork I would ever create,
it is expected to be treated as though it were nothing more than empty space.
You have ignored my efforts and stifled my creativity.
There is nothing left for me to do then cease production and disappear from this foreboding place.
My masterpieces, all ignored, will be left as a symbol of dreams destroyed and hopes lost.
I have been ignored right from the start, and will be ignored at the end.
I used to think to myself "What could have caused all this? Am I just that bad of a writer? Am I that bad of an artist?", but I know better now.
You are nothing more than a vicious critic, refusing to give anyone a chance unless their art is perfect.
The talent is there in the people you trample upon, you just refuse to give it a chance to bloom.
And as I write this last sentence, I know that this will be ignored and that my effort has been wasted once more.
Darkness and Light: a two part poem centered around two entities, darkness and light. It was once suggested to me that I switch the order of the parts, but I am going to leave it in its original order for now.
I walk through this world alone and cold.
Darkness enshrouds me, and I cannot find a way out.
I see people around me, but they cannot see me.
I realize now that I am the darkness and they are afraid of me.
They carry a light to repel me.
Why should they fear me?
I have nothing to hide, though it may seem that way.
So why do they not trust me?
Have no fear, I do not bite.
You do not need a light to see, listen to my words and I will guide your way.
Listen to my voice for I will not lead you astray.
Let me into your heart, so I can find my own way.
I am the light, I will guide you the way.
I repel the darkness and the evil it brings.
I will give you back the wings that darkness ripped away.
I will save your soul from the darkness inside you.
I will tear it away so it will misguide you no more.
For I am the light, and I am all that is right.
Where My Heart Truly Lies: a long, two part poem inspired by a sunset I saw once on a car ride back from a college tour. The second part of this poem has been removed due to it being very long and not necessary. The second part was a dream sequence that was added on unintentionally after the first part was written.
I lie on my back and stare up at the setting sun. I gaze upon a sea of orange with waves crashing upon golden cliffs and shores. Beyond the cliffs are forests of gold, trees swaying in the breeze. I look back down at those golden bluffs, and sitting next to the edge of one is a wolf.
A symbol of where my heart truly lies.
The sun continues to fade into nothingness and the golden shores disappear and I am cast into darkness, cold and alone.
Dreams: this poem is another one of my earlier works. The speaker of this poem is an anthropomorphic wolf.
I lay on my side, eyes closed, ears laid back, as I wait for dreams to clear my mind like waves washing footprints from the sand, restoring its smooth perfection.
But the dreams do not come.
I twist, turn, and twitch in an attempt to find the perfect position, but no matter how comfortable the position is, dreams evade me. I look up at the clock and make a mental note of the time.
I have been lying here for an hour now. Music drowns my ears, but the CD player is off. Voices fill my ears, but the room is empty. And I am still awake.
I open my eyes and stare at the moon, serene and at peace. Then I turn over and try to silence the music not played and the voices not spoken.
But the dreams do not come.
With a sigh I look up at the clock.
More than two hours I have been evaded by sleep. I throw off the blankets and sit on the edge. I growl at the moon, still serene as can be. I then yell out to the moon, my voice full of hate. “Why! Why must I suffer this fate? What have I done to deserve this retribution?” But the moon is not listening, and silence returns. I flop back down on the bed. Tears falling upon my pillow as I finally begin to calm down.
But the dreams still do not come…