Do you hear that calm, frugal breeze?
The synced patter cadence off the road?
What was once a hunt for your feast
In a time not so long ago
Over the distant horizon,
the rhythm takes your morning run
Within sight is a lonesome deer
Within scent is a stillborne fear
Exalted whispers of the ancestors:
"Exhaust it to death, predators."
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 2:41 PM UTC
Do you hear that calm, frugal breeze?
The synced patter cadence off the road?
What was once a hunt for your feast
In a time not so long ago
Over the distant horizon,
the rhythm takes your morning run
Within sight is a lonesome deer
Within scent is a stillborne fear
Exalted whispers of the ancestors:
"Exhaust it to death, predators."