Like Angels, Winged
by Michael R. Burch

Like angels—winged,
shimmering, misunderstood—
they flit beyond our understanding
being neither evil, nor good.

They are as they are . . .
and we are their lovers, their prey;
they seek us out when the moon is full
and dream of us by day.

Their eyes—hypnotic, alluring—
trap ours with their strange appeal;
drawn like moths to flame, we gather . . .
to see, to touch, to feel.

And in their arms, enchanted,
we feel their lips young/old,
and with their gorging kisses—
we warm them, growing cold.

Published by Monumental Moments (Eye Scry Publications), Poetry Life & Times, Behance, Razor Sharp and Dracula & His Kin. Keywords/Tags: vampires, angels, winged, wings, flit, flitting, evil, good, lovers, prey, night, day, moths, flame, appeal, attraction, kisses, warm, cold

Silent, but not too quiet,
where is the target and who will pray for it?

Hey hunter, haven’t you prepared to stalk and trap her ? 
When those dark roses opened up like Alladin’s cave,
a cave twisted, sharp spikes within 
 
Hey Hunter, cant you catch up with her
teasing from an invisible foe?

Change, again and again change your form,
When you adapt and chase it,
She can't be captured, but will you ever know.
Hey hunter, who will be hunted do you dare say!
Do you know if you are really the prey!
She has followed your scent and is following closely behind.
Now only her tracks you will find.

If you continue to play her vicous game,
Tears drop, a sleepless night in shame

I walked inside the den
and it was filled with wolves
showing their teeth
with snarls
and growls
so I threw some bones
and they paid it no mind.
They had blood
on their minds

bless my soul
it’s time to go.

Your beastly desires were always hidden beneath
A calm and cool exterior, hiding truth
You waited and hunted me, tracked me
And watched me as your intentions stayed aloof,
Preparing to at last spring your vicious trap
Cleverly laid in the deep woods of passion
You are a beast, who stalks this once lush forest
And I am your prey, lying dead in trees now ashen

Everywhere I go
I am being followed
By your thoughts,
By my fears,
By my lonliness
That I try to get rid of.
I go to places to clear up my head
But every place have some memory related to you
That breaks me again.
It's not a demon that I am afraid of
Getting followed by
But it's the memories related to places I go.
Memories related to you
Memories of us
Memories of time when I was happy from inside
But those memories clash now with the reality
And haunt me like I'm it's prey.

manager demanded: write
for all of 'em

conscience claimed: write

yesterday time
stopped passing by
yesterday i
floated above the
hudson river

grand mansions
polished shores
self-storages

swamps
vultures
scavengers

the pillage started when
scavengers pillaged
prey

don't get me wrong you
get me?

focused praying mantis still as a stick
clueless prey three times its size-
best friend of gardeners