The Hunter’s Heart

Through black silk night,

slinking with intent.

His appetite awakes;

no mercy, no repent.

 

A held frozen stare,

seeks upon the weak.

Armed in tested trial;

powerless are the meek.

 

Prey of choice, he finds;

heart guarded as before.

The hunter has his walls;

of love, they shall ignore

 

But there was to be one,

formed in purest beauty.

Kindness was their weapon,

shadowing the hunter’s duty.

 

His longing grew for more,

but met frustrations will.

Too often he had fled,

from loves addictive pill.

 

The hunter was no victim;

his crimes he did all own.

But eerie was that sound,

for now he was alone.

 

This prey had lured him in;

belief that he may keep.

This feeling of belonging,

in which his heart did leap.

 

One chance at embrace,

the hunter had now found.

But guarded habits old;

refuse to back down.

 

The hunter’s heart, too late;

words it failed to speak.

For this prey was his love;

which now he’ll never keep.

©Brett Kristian 2018