The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

Love is an evolution. Temptation is an animal.

At the quiet break of dawn,

The mists,

A mind inside the fog,

They play,


An orchestral curtain,

It bends,

Divides with waves

Of ancient palms,


In the solemn light of day

The heart,

A lonely hunter,

Cursed fates cruel hand,


Ensnared, and its

Vocations bared,

Then made to dance

Through the year’s first snow,


And as the stars

Laid down to rest,

Her subtle eyes

Were odd and cold,




For lack of words,

This trappers catch,

Its sojourn holds.

The End

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