The Soul That Never Learned to Lie

In a world where humanity has surrendered to the sterile hum of machines and the suffocating grip of routine, perhaps this poem may inspire some to be the one soul that remains untamed.

I was born with moss between my toes, and thunder and lightning braided into my hair. The world tried to tame me with clocks and codes, but I never fit into their cages or their prayers.

My heart beats in the rhythm of hooves, my breath is the wind through the pine. I speak in the silence of moonlit woods and dream of a life unrefined.

They call me gentle, soft as dew — but rage sleeps curled beneath my ribs. It wakes when cruelty dares to bruise the sacred pulse of what truly lives.

I am not broken — I am wild. Not lost — I walk the ancient way. The wolf within me is not reviled but honored when I choose to stray.

So let the cities crumble slow and let the stars reclaim the sky. I’ll be the howl the night still knows, the soul that never learned to lie.

August 11, 2025

Justin O. Smith ~ Author

~ the Author ~
Justin O. Smith Has Lived in Tennessee Off and on Most of His Adult Life, and Graduated From Middle Tennessee State University in 1980, With a B.S. And a Double Major in International Relations and Cultural Geography – Minors in Military Science and English, for What Its Worth. His Real Education Started From That Point on. Smith Is a Frequent Contributor to the Family of Kettle Moraine Publications.