Another hunters moon descends
into the forest rich they call
fur coats of their own making
with eyes sharper then a fox

This timber land
this desolate kingdom
cold anarchy fit to the fit
and death to the old

This flurry in snow
this muffled wonderland
wooded is the domain of the lost
and howls to the call of the wild

Blue eyes in a moon rich sky
keen and on their mark
padding gently
stalking softly


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris