Mark Matthews | + Follow Poet |
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Stalking In the Night

I stand alone
on the precipice of life,
watching the Herd.
It is me 
   the judge
       and executioner,
the one who chokes out the weeds,
the reaper of the weak,
                        the unworthy.
These are the unknowing 
builders of my soul,
      the appetizers
             before the feast.

Now let's step into
       the true primal hunt
(setting)
       Full moon darkened
                      by a mist,
       an old wood forest,
          deep,
             enclosing
    always silent
the type of night 
        you can taste in your mouth,
almost feel it
             roll across the skin.
That's when I sit back
on my haunches,
waiting for the scent
    to hit me,
          awakening every nerve.
I leap into motion
   crisscrossing the aroma,
moving ever closer
                   to destiny,
the symphony of my life.
As a silhouette 
comes into sight
                 I pause,
this is a time to cherish,
    let's enjoy this one.

I move a little up wind,
  to let the prey
           catch my scent.
I can see when it hits her,
  she stiffens
        and bolts.
Now the fun begins.
(chase)
       through a small glen,
       into brush,
       under a dead tree 
              every second I draw
                               closer,
       around a rock
       down a deer trail
              almost within reach,
       through a small stream
       on the far bank
              I leap,
           pinning her to the ground.

I rake my claws across
her belly
dumping her intestines
     then I get off her.
Its amusing,
       watching her try to get up.
I watch for the sign
         of when she gives up,
     starts to repent
then I begin,
  ripping a chunk of meat
                         from her thigh,
    gnawing her arm off at the elbow,
        tearing more flesh from her chest,
back to watching,
        chewing on the arm
                 like a drumstick,
sucking in her soul
                    so slowly,
make her suffer for hours, 
     watching the blood pool up
on the ground.

(Kill)
       My heart beats once
       and in that second
       I grow soft
              and bite out her throat.

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