The Hunt
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blood between my fingers
the eyes of the prey, closing in death
the sisters moons taking the colors

you hold the suns in your soul
the burning coals that scorch his skin
the avid gleam of your star
is taking him over
every day
every odious night

you hold his world between your fingers
the hunter’s spirit, the beating mess
his blood turns alloy
liquid iron
mingles with the tears

the last of the hunters
flooded with the heat
his world blessed and cursed
his life challenged and possessed

again the moons he stands
his star pulsing with terrifying glow
the stark desire
and the collapsing gaps
the holes in the reality

the hunt is his life
will you ever release yourself from his trap
that he sets every night
claiming you relentlessly

//   Article written by skekMal  //