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Date Posted: 22:41:49 05/03/01 Thu
Author: Deadpoet
Subject: The Hunt

The Hunt

The night surrounds us
The stars shine with
The dreams that are made
Upon them this night
A soft breeze sways the grass
A chill is in the air but spring is here

Two souls move in the night
Wrestling with the fire of
Setting sun

One listens, learning, watching
The other opens like a flower
In the light

And they begin to dance across the night
Time waits for no one, the hands of the clock spin through the night
They begin the hunt

Sensing the desires of the of the other
Longing for the touch of a gentle hand
A sign

Feeling for the fire that
Dwells upon their minds

The wind touches their faces
Gracing her hair
It flows in the breeze like waves
Upon the ocean destined to
Wash ashore

Their eye’s meet for an instant
And the hunger is alight
Growing with every movement






And the hunt continues
They walk through the fields
With the young grass blades
Bending under their weight
She stands, alone in the twilight
Strong and prideful with her main of hair surrounding her likes a lion
Confident and watchful,
In the night upon the hill gazing over the land
With the stars looking down upon her,
Within her reach but far enough away for them
To still be a dream

To bring those stars within her grasp,
To see what dreams she
Could make of them

The light in her eyes
Is like those stars
So much hurt,
Needing,
Her tender lips
Fail to speak

The dance of the hunt begins
To climb,
The night begins to darken, the
Desire begins to grow

He steps along quite and patient,
The night hides his
Soul.

For few has seen so deep
Inside

He walks within the darkness
Using it as his guise








Longing to take her into his callused soul
The touch of her lips
Such sweat intensity
` The heat
Surrounded by such intimacy

The dance begins anew
Their hands grace upon

One another
The fire burns
Brighter

He wants to strike
Waiting for the moment

Where the fire burns the brightest

The true hunt begins
She waits, listening and watching
For the opportunity to strike with the swiftness
And cunning of the clean kill
Precise and unforgiving

Clouds roll in, the air grows
Of the smell of electricity and ozone
They become more alive,
Their senses heightened by the
Oncoming storm

The pace quickens

The tree’s sway to the west,
The rain begins to fall into the grass
Moving towards the two souls,
That heads no notice they are upon the dance
Of the hunt

They both wait for the other to strike







The smell of the kill is in the air
So strong it’s stagnate
Lighting flashes
Striking a tree
Off on the horizon
Splitting it in two
With a loud crack that echoes across
The fields
It burns brighter than
The lighting
That opened its core

They move towards the
Fire

Wanting to dance upon its flames
If only for an instant before
They burn out

They both wait
The flames
Licking the wood
In it’s hunger
Burning brighter
The rain begins to wash down

Upon the longing souls
Neither making a move

But he longs for her touch
She waits for his move

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