The Hunt
As the winter fades and the night air is rich with new life,
She stirs again within.
The warm darkness is like silk against my skin,
Coaxing her closer and closer to the surface.
She aches to be set free to join the hunt,
To raise her face to the moon in adoration,
To feel the power of the earth beneath her feet.
Oh how I long to set her free, this beast inside.
If only for a moment.
The temptation to leave my world behind and lose myself is so strong on nights like these it leaves me breathless.
My biggest fear is that once she gets a taste of freedom, there will be no returning to the life before.
I fear the freedom, I fear the power, for with it comes violent instincts long repressed.
Would she ever give me back control?
Or even worse, would I even want it?
Sarah Marsh 