my life is a tepid sea of mediocrity and discontent
a savanna of apathy and indecision with rage lurking in the undergrass.
dry desiccated remains turn to choking dust underfoot as it makes it's quarry.
I can feel it.. hunting me, stalking my people.
come quick.. under my wing, out of way of harm
for it's skill is keen - the word is haste, and the action.. sharp
my want is to protect, yet... somehow.. i secretly hope.. i quietly wish..
I feel the guilt gnawing. out spot, out. it knows i want this, all of this.
i relish the roar and screams and viceration.
i see it, staring. eyes cold and empty and dark,
creeping closer.. sinew and muscle strained tense and flexed in anticipation..
i do not pity them.
..i call to them in stead..
