I have gory portraits hanging on my walls, collecting grime
I have polaroids to record my cleansing efforts, scenes of crime
Limbs drape my abode like a ghastly ******* of antlers
Trophies encompass my home: glass-eyed raptors and the skins of panthers
Nonetheless, I sit upon a throne of men for they are always the greatest prey
I stalk their numbers through all moon cycles of the night and solar shifts of the day
I happily silence a man’s hubris to collect his humerus
I engage in a scrap to seize a scapula- a theft, I hope, didn’t leave its owner too furious
Hide in packs, in swarms, and in flocks you pretty beasts, I must implore
Face a fate that all creatures must surrender to
Chills of fear racing in the bones and the great hunter tearing down your door