Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
It has been centuries.
While I have found pleasure in the work,
and have gained much skill through time,
I no longer get the satisfaction.
With every **** I make it gets easier and less fulfilling.
I am always searching for that perfect prey to give me what I want,
more than the things I need.

Eons pass and men fall before me.
Hopelessly bound by my love.
Rendered paralyzed by my gaze.
Wrestling internally with themselves to figure out if
I am real or only a dream.
If I am a goddess or a daemon.

Their blood is my life,
their love feeds my soul,
but they never last long;
can't hold up against the intensity of my existence.
They worship and bend and beg for my love,
and eventually they withdrawal or attack or run.
And that's when they are ended like so many before them,
and I begin the hunt anew, in search of another.

I grow tired, and wiser, and stronger,
but they never seem to change.
Mortal men are weak,
bound only to themselves and not built for eternity.
I eat their hearts and collect their souls.
Use their bones to build my armor
and that's all they're ever good for.

Their names drip like spells from my tongue,
and after centuries it seems my magic still isn't strong enough
to find a thing I cannot eventually destroy.
Grisha S Dec 2020
Hunting through the woods she would go

She would look at the animals as she heard the river flow

In the night, she hunted,

all kinds of animals –birds who flew or cats who grunted



As quiet as the night, she moved all around the green forest,

And stared at the sun while at rest

The unusual heat made her whole body shiver

Hypnotized by the bright light,

She slowly let down her quiver



The fire of the sun went inside her soul

Her eyes brightened with amber and her body had flown



She once again went into the night,

But now animals saw her with fright

No longer the silent huntress

Now a creature of fire and an immortal goddess



Instead of running, the animals bowed down

The birds took a bark and crafted a crown

The bears build a throne for her of black wood

The lions by her, on their four legs they stood



The moon shone as she was coronated

She turned into a new woman as she incinerated

She sat on the throne with her arms rested on the side

She had now become the Fire in the Night.



-Grisha. S
This is a poem about a talented huntress being rewarded by nature. Read how the fire transforms her into another creature entirely.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2020

Swift-footed huntress
Life and death hangs on footrace
Love fierce like lions


New day, new haiku!
This one is for Atalanta, a courageous and fierce huntress (not be be confused with Atalanta, the Argonaut). Small wonder that she has been compared to Artemis, theyre similar indeed.
In fact, she swore an oath to Artemis, keeping to the two thing the goddess herself treasures other than hunting - her virginity.

She was more of a tomboy, other than hunting, she loved wrestling, riding horses and such. She gained a reputation for being so skilled and better than her male counterparts.

Theres so much story around this extraordinary woman of myth. Her father left her for death from the moment she was born and she was raised by a she bear, and eventually raised by hunters. She played a role in the hunt for the Calydonian boar was gifted the boars head and hide by Meleager, a fellow hunter and slayer of the beast who happened to be in love with her and was tragically killed by his mother. The reason being because he killed his uncles who were jealous that such a prize was given to her and not them.

Even from birth, this woman was badass.
Now for the main and popular myth!
Not only was Atalanta a skilled huntress, she was beautiful, grabbing the attention of men (who were intrigued and some probably wanted to put her in her proverbial place, so to speak).

So she said that she will offer her hand to the man who could outrun her in a race, but the losers will lose their life by her hand.

One man caught her eye, Hippomenes (aka Milanion or Melanion). He knew well enough to know he couldnt beat her in a race so he turned to Aphrodite to help. The Goddess of Love was outraged by Atalantas lack of interest in love, so she granted him three golden apples of the Hesperides before the race commenced.

As expected, Atalanta was beating him and he would drop a golden apple to make her stop and admire it. Some myths say she deliberately did so to give him a chance to win, haha! And win he did!

She did swear off marriage (oath to Artemis) but happily married him and gave birth to their son, Parthenopaeus.

But their marriage was shortlived and they were turned into lions...
The reason being because they were so consumed by their passion, that they actually made love in one of Zeus' sacred temples. Another myth states that her husband didnt honor his dues to Aphrodite and so she cursed them to make love in the temple.

Honestly, this is one of my favourite myths. I find her so inspiring as a character (and the fact that they apparently made love in one of Zeus' temples makes me laugh hard! The irony! The last line of the haiku is a reference to their...excited *******, haha! 😂😂😂)

Men didnt like that she was so strong and skilled as a huntress yet she stuck to her guns and proved herself, though she didnt really have to. Thats something we can all learn from as a whole to be honest. Even her name is rooted from 'atalantos' which means, "equal in weight"- a testament to her achievements and victories with men.

Man or woman, we are all true equals. None exceeds another. We all have our strengths and weakness in life but if we stay true to our resolve to be the best we can be, we'll be much better for it! ^^

Anyway, thank you all for growing followers, I'm forever humbled and grateful for the support🙏🌹💜
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Huntress
by Michael R. Burch

after Baudelaire

Lynx-eyed, cat-like and cruel, you creep
across a crevice dropping deep
into a dark and doomed domain.
Your claws are sheathed. You smile, insane.
Rain falls upon your path, and pain
pours down. Your paws are pierced. You pause
and heed the oft-lamented laws
which bid you not begin again
till night returns. You wail like wind,
the sighing of a soul for sin,
and give up hunting for a heart.
Till sunset falls again, depart,
though hate and hunger urge you—On!
Heed, hearts, your hope—the break of dawn.

Originally published by Sonnetto Poesia. Keywords/Tags: Baudelaire, cat, catlike, cruel, creep, creeping, claws, paws, talons, huntress, heart, prey, hate, hunger, alliteration, sonnet
Brian Yule Mar 2019
Pay dirt
Eyes her target
Sit just so & sit tight
Let him think that he's the hunter, then
******* fish
Angela Rose Oct 2017
I am a huntress.
I sink my teeth into what is mine until I draw blood
My prey never comes easy

I am a huntress.
I lurk and linger around until I find what I crave
My prey is left scarred with teeth marks

I am a huntress.
I do not fear the darkness, in fact I strive in it
My prey will not see me coming

I am a huntress.
I protect what is mine and I will attack any predatory threat
My prey is mine and mine only

I am a huntress.
I hunt down hearts near and far and I keep them entrapped within me
My prey does not know how good he has it
PaperclipPoems Nov 2016
She was the fighter, the rebel
Hidden behind cherry lips
Pale and slender, a voice that would make you surrender
With eyes like an eclipse

Carefully plotted schemes she carried,
Delicate steps she always took
Armed with an army of mischievous intentions
She played the good girl well, but she was undoubtedly a crook

Ask any man, he'll tell you so
She had a reputation like no other
If you'd met her, you'd surely wish you hadn't
They call her the Heart Hunter.
Raven Mar 2016
A beautiful maiden
guided by the moonlight
hunting in the dark woods
with nothing but
her arrows and pride.

— The End —