The Hunt
Shadows orphic and dark, verily bound;
Have feeling half in and half out of life.
Ghostly whispers; I hark as they resound.
Eerie epitaph of a dim twilife:
Noble savage surely slain by these beasts.
The demon within is all that remains.
Disaccord greater than famine and feast.
Society's hand; now holding the reins.
Precious morality being suppressed;
as if it's something truly criminal.
You fail to see when you're being addressed;
a peril cruelly political.
From within shadows I seek to confront.
Society's nature; the beast I Hunt....
Copyright © Dill Dennison | Year Posted 2016
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