The Hunt

by Krissymkitty   Aug 25, 2008


Dark wings descending
From her shoulders
The wind starts bending
The rain

The tree across the way
Begins to sway
As the thunder
Rumbles the ground

Her eyes turn black
She's ready to hunt
A human walks
Across her front

She crouches down
About to pounce
When the clouds part
And the sun comes out

The sun burns her skin
And she screams in pain
The last thing she see's
Is that angel fly away...

~The "human" is the angel~
Please vote and/or comment...thanks

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  • 16 years ago

    by Frederick Mayer

    This is so close to being something I would have rated a 5, however, the touch of originality just misses...but the poet is talented without question and delivers a right-on content within a familiar theme, not to mention, with nifty aplomb, presents a poem whose flow engulfs the receiver in its embrace and doesn't release to the very end...where it ends right on ending-point, which is not an easy thing to accomplish (even with the best of authors)!