Haunting the Hunter
The mind of the hunter is cold
They have no feelings towards their prey.
All they feel is the bloodlust.
Which is snatch away by day.
One of these predators is not like any other
He doesn't want to kill
But seeing as it is his nature
He will gladly give up free will.
No one can say why he hunts no longer
But many of his colleagues agree
That his hunger is quite satisfied
By the love someone gives him for free
Something within him is calling out
Begging him to feed
But this so called monster
Refuses to pay heed
His eyes have darkened like daylight
His mouth is drawn quite thin
He desperately needs the blood of another
But he refuses to give in.
His love is standing strong and proud
She knows it is quite hard.
To be the hunter, and then the hunted
She knows his time is coming
She knows it's coming fast
And yet she refuses to believe
That he will not last
Haunting the hunter is not a fun job
But it is one that must be done.
Always during the dead of night
And always before the risen sun.
I am the haunter,
Willing my prey
Into the death that awaits them
The death that is my day.
This was a small introduction to the type of stories you can expect from me. This is also the way I portray myself. I am the haunter. You can determine if it means anything to you or not. But just be warned; I am not a normal being.
The mind of the hunter is cold
They have no feelings towards their prey.
All they feel is the bloodlust.
Which is snatch away by day.
One of these predators is not like any other
He doesn't want to kill
But seeing as it is his nature
He will gladly give up free will.
No one can say why he hunts no longer
But many of his colleagues agree
That his hunger is quite satisfied
By the love someone gives him for free
Something within him is calling out
Begging him to feed
But this so called monster
Refuses to pay heed
His eyes have darkened like daylight
His mouth is drawn quite thin
He desperately needs the blood of another
But he refuses to give in.
His love is standing strong and proud
She knows it is quite hard.
To be the hunter, and then the hunted
She knows his time is coming
She knows it's coming fast
And yet she refuses to believe
That he will not last
Haunting the hunter is not a fun job
But it is one that must be done.
Always during the dead of night
And always before the risen sun.
I am the haunter,
Willing my prey
Into the death that awaits them
The death that is my day.
This was a small introduction to the type of stories you can expect from me. This is also the way I portray myself. I am the haunter. You can determine if it means anything to you or not. But just be warned; I am not a normal being.