He hunts with his gun
\nfires his bullets of steel
\na brain dead sad stalker
\nwho just cannot feel
\nwhose heart was torn out
\nby the ravens of time
\nand who slinks away into
\na great pit of slime<\/p>\n
He hides behind trees
\nwith the ivy he stands
\nhis eyes do not question
\nneither his hands
\nhe holds the great dread
\npoints it straight at the child
\nthe wild one, whose
\nhome is the forest
\nso mild<\/p>\n
dappled with autumn
\na heart beating fast
\nthe shadows proclaim
\nthe sentinels blast
\na sharp crack we hear
\nand the bullets of steel
\nfly though the air
\nto the child that is real<\/p>\n
and down she falls, flat
\nher legs kick the air
\na cry that will break maidens hearts
\nshe does share
\nthe killer, he laughs
\nthat’s the hunter
\nthe coward
\nthe creep who may weep
\nin the midst of a crowd<\/p>\n
over he goes and stand there
\nsupreme
\nhe’s slaughtered a child
\nwho was living her dream
\nwhat a brave sod he is
\nwhat does he do
\nhe poses an arse
\nthere that is my view<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
He hunts with his gun fires his bullets of steel a brain dead sad stalker who just cannot feel whose heart was torn out by the ravens of time and who slinks away into a great pit of slime He … Continue reading