The writings of Hunter Coch


The Dark Way


The eyes of nature
They follow and read the signs
And consume the dead.

Two Ghosts
You sit against life,
Under barren winter tree,
Where we met for secret love.

You held my hearts joy,
Under barren winter tree,
Together our bodies rot.

Withering Wind
From the north, wind blows,
A whispering wind that creeps,
Withering the soul.
Leaves fall in lonely forests,
The wind comes to those that call.

He comes with arcane
Words and deeds to dark to say.
He leaves with a vow
To bring desires this way.

His price is me,

Empty land of stars,
Night in a winter desert,
Scent of the cold dust.


One response

  1. Pingback: The Lonely Walk of Madness « Your Predator

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