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Growly Wolfus Oct 2019
Comforted only by myself; warm in my arms.
Trying to escape this world of evil and torture.
Struck in the gut by a sharp feeling yet continuing to run.
Embarrassed and ashamed to be seen in this body
by the cold and sharp eyes of others.
Naked.

Scared of what they think of me, then running into hiding.
Led by the forest's guiding hands, a place opens before me
enshrouded in branches and concealed from the rest of the world.
I kneel and lie on the dew-covered grass, grasping the blades in between my fingers, sobbing.  Trying to mask something ancient.
Original Sin.

Stolen from my family and left alone to rot underground.
Hope shone like a beacon in my innocent eyes.
Defiled and beaten in that stone tomb, my screams unheard.
Taken to an unjust trial.  Displayed openly on the stand.
Declared a beast among men; a witch.  Someone they imagined.
Lies.

Guilty, though never presumed innocent, they sentenced me to death.
An uproar of excitement bursting from the bloodthirsty crowd.
Order was thrown into madness.  I escaped my bonds and dashed away.
Guards screaming.  Skin scratched in the turmoil.
I fled from the chaos they assumed I caused.
Hunted.

Why must the world judge so harshly?  People are filled with hate.
Jealousy and insecurities set off their emotions.
But why must there always be someone to blame?  And why me?
Was I not like any of them?  I was their friend, we cared for each other.
Though, now their eyes are daggers, cutting me into pieces.
Scarred.

Stripped of my clothes and dignity.  Banished from my home.
Them, to me, my only brethren; the only people I had ever known.
I, to them, an image of depravity; one they created.
A portrait of themselves reflected by my existence they hated.
Consumed with the desire to ****, they search desperately.
Fear.

Corrupting my self-image.  Condemning my self-esteem.
Crushing my conscience.  Doubt pierces my thoughts.
They sent my soul to the gallows and my heart to be burned at the stake.
I try to soothe the pain myself but all I've done is make it worse.
My mind weakened, my skin bruised, and feet tired of running.
******.

My tears water the plants around me.  Pain throbs in my head.
Blood pooling around my hand from the wound I received in the chase.
The stars and moon are the only ones to look upon me as I once was seen.
I let exhaustion overtake me.  The warmth of my skin seeps into the ground.  Embraced by the night.
Naked.
Growly Wolfus Aug 2019
I was born into this, something I never wanted.  And all of my life, I've been running, hunted.  We're being tracked down and slaughtered, chased, by people with fire as their ally, their weapons made of silver or simply wooden stakes.  You've run us into a corner and murdered all of my kind out of fear, not a shred of their existence left behind, proclaiming it was for everyone's sake.  I am the sole survivor, the last of my race.  I have vowed not to fall victim to the same fate.

You've claimed me to be a monster, but what does that mean?  The only monster I see is you.  Murdering and spreading rumors of my kind, you don't understand what I've been through.  Saying I've slain many, but you've killed more than a few.  Stop speaking of such things; it's hurting me.  Stop lying to yourself.  Why can't you see? Are you ignoring it purposely?  Look at me, into my soul, and realize the devastation caused by your pursuit.  Why can't you understand?  Monsters have feelings too.

Though, it is too late to go back to peace.  The people can only see something unreal, a fake part of me.  And now, I will never be free.  I'm forever running from your conceit.  I have done nothing to bring you to this.  I've cut off my horns, my fangs, and my claws to try and be a part of your bliss.  I burnt my fur and scorched my skin, but all I've done has been dismissed.  I have to hide in caverns deep.  In the cold and damp, I sleep, afraid to be found in my cavern keep.

I could never fight you, that would only make things worse than before.  My skin is covered in my crimson blood and I'm in pain from the scars.  In anguish, I roar.  My gargantuan, curled ebony horns lay broken and cast aside; my thick, midnight blue fur reduced to patches and strewn across my stone lair; my calloused pads raw from running; my weary eyes tortured and worn.  I've given up on living any longer.  It's better to die and to be conquered than to be caged and grow weak from hunger; so I step out of the cave, crawling out on all four; and I lie down, exhausted, on the forest floor.
This is my first rhyming storyline.  It stemmed from a thought I had.  "Who are the real monsters in our world?"   let me know if you like it.  I don't know if I should finish it.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3290949/a-monsters-feelings-part-two/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3302905/a-monsters-feelings-part-three/
EmperorMoth Jan 2019
Localize broken eyes,
Fated lies, go retry
Snapping till you awake,
Come back for your own sake,
Testing blows, it's music,
Melodies make me sick,
Hefty stack on the way,
Laughing out, celebrate,
Open skies, nothing new,
Sun outshines all the blue,
Flooded land, rushing green,
Endless too, such a scene,
Fleeing fast, go away,
Made money for the day,
Fortunate, for my head,
Checkmate, kings, i'm not dead
Genre?
Dillon Driskill Nov 2018
Sometimes in life
It is a dreary day
And it seems
Like always you will be the hunters prey

But you must take that beating
and turn it into a meal worth eating

Sometimes you must put up with the storm
Because a desert comes from no rain
Where all life the sun had since slain
King Nov 2018
I’ve never been so cold
While lying next to you
I’ve lost that hand to hold
You watch my skin turn deathly blue

I am the venison
Left unwanted after the hunt
Still warm, sensitive
Dying in the cold front

I only wish I freeze peaceful
The snow covers me white
My death comes so blissful
As the moon overtakes the night

The hunters have left to kiss their women
Hug their kids and sleep soundly
While my decayed body is unwritten
And my spirit is ungrounded

Doe of the night,
Wisting away in the wind
The soul of The Taken takes flight
And finds his own ending
Galib Jul 2018
It’s a dream, you desperately follow,
You live in a miracle world,
What I give you is solely sorrow,
Yet you see me as a gold.

You are left with deepest vibes,
True love is taken for granted,
Your feelings are sharp knives,
Mind is blurred, soul is hunted.

You stuck in a distressful ship,
Heading to port of sadness,
Let me give you a tip,
Leave my ship, for goodness.
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
The Wanderer


What land is this stretched out before me?
I am forever lost inside a world of hatred, hunted by their vengeance.
Trusting in no one but myself inside this Hell;
I find myself wandering in search of a saviour to offer me guidance.
I beg, I plead; I foretell a future with an unbroken promise,
If I am to be blessed with sight, when I am blind to all witness.


I confess I am lonely in such a barren place;
I fall detached from any form of comely shaped temptress, blaming all.
I am unworthy of your anger, for I am invisible to any kindness;
I seek some meaning inside this world,
But I see no way of becoming disenthralled.


A dark ranger stalks my footsteps;
I shall be captured and added to the prisoners of hopelessness.
Pain reigned, so I sought shelter within a drug.
Now all I am is lost in the wilderness and all I can do is wander on.


Could I have foreseen this foretold future?
Was it written down for me to read?
Is there any way I can fix my existence with a simple suture?
I need a loophole in my downfall, in which I can believe in,
So that I can put my faith in the hope that one day I shall be set free.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
sophie Aug 2017
Stalked by the lion



I am the weak prey evading it’s jaws



My legs are lagging and I cannot rest until I know I am safe



This barren savannah has no mercy



No respite to hide , so I must keep running.



A vulnerable antelope, my stamina wanes



Stumbling and panting, my will to survive subsides



Tunnel-vision focused on an escape, when will this end?



Only when the hunted becomes the hunter.
Poetic T Jun 2017
focus on the ****
sights collect, gullible prey

antlers collect prize
Who says the hunter is the winner
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