The Hunt
Bodies marked with blood. Dancers of light and dark. Ancient dance of sacrefice. The horned beast called to hunt. The night crys out it's pain. Split asunder by death's screams. Blood soaks into the hunger earth. Her mouth opens to sup. Ancient one arise and except our offering. Except the blood of the first kill. A gift to the earth mother. From her children. Written January 27th, 2002 © on Jan 26 2002 04:33 PM PST, Phyllis Thompson 0 • 10
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Bodies marked with blood...."