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Carlo C Gomez Jan 22
Are we all the same distance apart?
Are we nocturnal
because we buy into
rhythmic disturbance,
trying to find a memory
in a dark room?

In shadow of advancing myth,
there's evidence of hunters
in the glowlight,
with wings outstretched,
solitary and contrite,
we cut the night,
we cut the night.

From sticks to bitterness,
we cut the night,
we cut the night.

Ander Stone Jan 12
A muse will amuse herself with little interaction that spark the fires of artistic endeavor.

A muse will amuse herself with the poking and proding of the weather beaten beast that boasts of great skills in the caging of thoughts and feelings.

A muse will wither away in a place where there is nothing to amuse herself with...

Therefore she will search for that one hunter that can track down the wildest of ideas, the one that can take down the most dangerous experiences and tame them for the masses.

She will land on the shoulders of that one predator that can drag prey into the dwelling of the many and feed them all with the morsels of this glorious hunt.

So hunt on, dear hunter.
Hunt on and be the plaything of thine muse.
Nyx Aug 2023
Like a vampire, I'd met him in the night
Seated by a fireplace filled with flickering light
The silence lulled as if drawing me in
Broken by his voice, dripping with sin

Dark hair beautifully framing his face
clear white skin, like an old portrait filled with grace
As if looking through me with those piercing blue eyes
Revealing the secrets that within me, they lie

To brandish a stake, to hold it tightly in my hand
Desire to pierce the still-beating heart, return it to the land
Unlike a gentle melody dancing in the night
The taste of iron on my lips wouldn't feel right

Trace the lines of my body, call me mine with those lips
Enchant me with that sweet tongue, Let my reality begin to slip
Caress me with those cold hands, Hold me tightly in embrace
Tell me all your heart desires, what you dare not face

Close your eyes for but a moment, Feel the warmth of my skin
Let it radiate around you, Breath it all in
Now run away quickly, Flee while you can
Before the prey falls captive, to this hunter of a man

Quench your thirst

It's such an obvious honeytrap
JKirin Feb 2022
We chase wild dreams at the tip of our pens,
every word every stroke brings us closer.
But at times, our draft—it just doesn’t make sense…
We can’t help but believe us a poser.
Still, the dream, the pen, calls out to our hearts—
and we try, put it back to the paper.
Every word, every stroke is a wonder!
As our instincts kick in – full of hunger,
we’re hunters that chase, hunt down our prey!
We won’t let our doubts win, lead us astray—
we will howl for our pack, our dearest friends.
Dreams are waiting at the tip of our pens.
about writing, about doubts
Nigdaw Nov 2021
I take comfort
from the greasy food
on my plate
hunter gatherer instincts
sated, my eyes search
for campfire flickering flames
and settle on the fish tank
I am zoned
in the cavern
of my own space
my day over
I wait for the miracle
of sunrise
VanillinVillain May 2021
as one admires a waning moon's final phosphorescence,
the brightest burn before its departure,
so was I too, late,
chancing only a glimpse of your blinding luminance
as you passed us by, unto your next life phase.

how I wish I could have seen the whole magnificent show;
and to not have only chanced a friendship
my first, your final, semester.
I will miss her most
Isaac afunadhula Feb 2021
I woke up in the marshes,
All l could hear was the wolves hawl
through the frigid forest.
I was weak to walk but my soul grew stronger.
The winds made me cold even in my jacket.
Alone in the dark with a torch running out of batteries.
Walk like a hunter in the night,
like a soldier at war
looking for the beacon of hope
That my bad days are over.
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
If we are addicted to the chase
The rush received when we catch our prey
To a life of fetch I will resign
Bring back each time you run away

Then you are finished fleeing
Feelings will give a shove
And I will switch tired places
Will be your turn to go after my love

Thrown high
Cartwheeling midair
Heart is a toy for you to chew
No matter how distant I lay fallen
For some reason still pursue

You are the bone
Can't resist
Treat I never can earn
We make a boomerang
Without me have no way to return

But if I do not have you I have nowhere
No house to return to
Depend on me to continue flying
Like I depend on you

This game can be played with two
We go back and forth tossing *****
Obeying repeated commands loyally and prompt
Whether returning sticks or missed calls

It does not really matter who chucks
Who sprints after affection wanted
We're both addicted to the thrill
The hunter or the hunted
I am rather fond of this one
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