Monday, December 5, 2016

FBSHApost@2 December 2016: POEM #3/2016

I hear from distance afar
The pack of wolves hunting 
Tearing and killing
The cry and tears of those devoured
Daunting and haunting
But their lust unfulfilled
No guilt...
No other hunters with guns 
The wolves have fun
No one will dare to come to their killing fields
They have organised it well
All corners the hungry wolves have guarded and protected
Just spring on the victims
To the ground they fell
No one can tell
The wolves so strong & mighty
The flesh and blood intoxicate
The wilder the wolves will be
Clear the place empty
This is the hunting ground
Our destiny say the wolves
Unwilling to share with anybody
For our joy to enjoy
Cruelty is our name & game
The wolves keep howling as loud as can be
Into the silent night and waiting under the long grass
Satisfied to rest for another day.

Stockmore Street, Oxford.

FBSHApost@2 December 2016

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