by M. J. Schlagle

Created on: April 28, 2008

The Hunger

Over the mountain
Following the trail
Back in the valley
Fresh air becomes stale.
The air it is hazy
No birds to be heard,
If you hear footsteps
The spirits been stirred.
It walks on the wind,
more fleeting then light.
Hides in the daytime,
Goes hunting at night.
Driven by hunger,
From deep down inside,
No use to scramble,
there's no place to hide.
You slip and stumble,
on rocks in your path.
Breath growing closer,
Your feeling the wrath.
Cursed for forever,
A strong witches brew.
Hunger insatiable,
It's coming for you.

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