Vittring

Eyes roll back
Senses heightened
Every sound, perceived
Every scent, apprehended
Hidden away in the deep
Escaping from light
Clawing out from the black
Waiting to clutch
Escape the light
My will imposed
Playground for instincts
If blood is what I spill
It was foretold
Dance of death
Feral display of might
Every move interpreted
Every approach calculated
Eyes roll back
Pupils dilating
On the trail
Led by bloodlust
Waiting for the night’s embrace
Through the darkness
I find your shelter
No escape
Dance of death
Feral display of might
Every move interpreted
Every approach calculated
My will imposed
Playground for instincts
If blood is what I spill
It was foretold