For thou sweepst me
in thy ribe if guill
with garments forged
in spiteful steel
No tainted pride
shall make conviction cease
None shall be unto thee proven
worthy of thy outmost fear
Let alone the silent longing
instinct shun the ones you dear
As the hunter boldly stalks his prey
intoxicated
Conviction reigns where truth might sway
intimidated
Silence the bore
Shun the ones you dear
The hunt is over
so the feast begins
What feast is enduring
when all is said and done
Everchange of hearts
The hunter’s reason fail
The hunt is treason
The hunt is over
so the feast begins
Why search for endurance
when all is said and done?