Thursday, December 14, 2006

Hunted

Alone we travel,
late at night,
howling at the moonlight.

Being hunted,run and hide,
watching a friend die inside.

I arch my back,
howl at the moon,
wishing there were something I could do.

It is out there,
hiding in wait,
waiting for my friends heart to break.

Why must we be hunted?

By: Eric Farmer

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