Hunter

The falcon fixes his unblinking
glittering eyes
Glaring intently
at his next victim

The white dove sits
on the unsteady branch
Chirping her song
With no name

Silently, the falcon seeks its prey
The dove is caught unawares
in one fell swoop
the falcon's keen claws graze her.

With her graceful wings, the white dove
trills with fear, frozen by it
too terrified to breathe

The falcon spreads its powerful wings
cold, determined and unempathetic
Craving only for one thing
crimson life

hunter and prey
are entangled
in a race for life or death
Indistinct shapes blotted out by trees

The falcon catches his prize; his object of desire
triumphant yet again
The dove struggles,
twitches helplessly
The gratification of flesh is immediate
as the hunter pierces her delicate throat

Bright scarlet liquid trickles; bubbling like a river of damnation
onto her white cloak of innocence
Tainted with anguish,
sorrow and agony.

Death begins weaving its lethal web
Paralysis encroaches the creature.
Her life is now but a languishing heartbeat
On the verge of fading

As the last remnants of life
ebbed out from her fragile shell
The dove wails one final song:

The falcon has claimed my body,
but darkness has devoured my soul.

Empty
silence
descends on the snowy plains.

Nothingness
presides.

The hunter's malevolent eyes
His remorseless heart
spares none.

His gaze sweeps across the horizon, searching
A timeless game of hide and seek.
The hunted are not safe.
Run now, if you can.