Sunday, August 23, 2015

The Predator

I dreamt of killing last night.

I enjoyed it.

Reveling in blood, crime, and fear,
I imagine this is how wolves feel,
gaining excitedly on the footfalls
of frightened prey,
sharp weapons held expectantly,
ready for the rush from murder

it shook me upon waking,
not because I was scared
of my viciousness bared,
because I enjoyed their pain,
their blood,
their fear,
their choked pleas for mercy,
fell lightly on deaf ears.

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