The Hunter

A shadow that passes as he may,
Able to walk in the light of day,
Never to flee or to runaway,
The Dhampyre Hunter without a name.

Lost and stranded he may seem,
His fear is not of death but dream,
To the eye at night he is unseen,
But alone and lost he begins to fade.

Always to understand one's pain,
Whence all of hope begins to drain,
Whence all of deeds thought be in vain,
D; the hunter shall come again.