"Release me, now
I desire wind's flight."
You do not yet understand
the thrashing of feelings
the bite of crooning words;
You know not the cruelty of man,
nor the tip of his arrow
Man hunts and stalks
beauty with sardonic blatancy
elated and brimmed with delight.
He snuffs it out with senses akin to savage beasts,
crippling prey with fearsome teeth.
However, amongst fear and shattered aspirations,
there is no greater rush than to hunt
and be hunted
but once caught:
reality wakes cold.