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TheHunter
there will always be the hunt skekMal inhaled the deep scent of the thick forest; the moss mixed with damp earth and the rain that just washed Thra. His tail thumped against the ground, with content, as last droplets fell on his unmasked face. |
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Dec. 11 2022
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filed under poetry with comments are off for this post |
the forest breathes with crimson dread
branches scratch over, the darkness weeps
the scent of prey haunts like an apparition
the blood runs faster; essence of life storms my veins
the slain ones run with me, wailing ghost of fallen ones
nothing can slow down the wild red river
nothing can stop the bloodied talons of the night
it’s time to hunt again
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