I rush through the trees
I hear them hunting me
from them i flee
Is this the end of me?
...
Innan minn munr vegr Njordir blod rinnar
Til veg eldri bruni I voxtr vanr
Veg hleypa liki hross
Innan sja lif I hafa sidoss
...
I could hear Rachel's cries
her tears falling into a sea of noise
as memories of the night passed before my eyes
cab rides with friends with words about boys
...
This is a tale of the greatest tragedy
the fading of the highest majesty
the greatest beauty ever seen
She is The Black Queen
...
this is a tale of the coldest heart
and how it was ended by deaths ebon dart
the strongest ruler there has ever been
She is the White Queen
...
Do you remember the time we spent together?
When we played our games,
We thought we would be forever
We used to talk of fame
...
Tell me you love me
Whisper it to my ear
Tell me how this love could be
Tell me that I have nothing to fear
...
The Morning Star is Rising
A glow rising from the east
Across the land all is Dying
Life being burned away by the Beast
...
I remind my self
This is a good thing
An end chosen is a better end
That i make for me
...
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a Tuffet
Easting the flesh of the dead
...
I do the same things Day to Day
Am i veiled, or is the world just Grey?
...
I know this devil
He is the one who made me bad
He is the one who got me in trouble
That is why i am sad.
...
Once upon a time I was happy
I think it was as a child
I can barely remember
...
Once upon a time I was happy
I think it was as a child
I can barely remember
...
with eight languages and more than one hundred thousand words i find myself unable to express much of me, and being remembered is something that of late has become desirable, with a life as short as this i wish to make a mark that someone of one hundred years would make, yet i leave no children and have no published works, i have never been imortalised in sculpture of canvas, an immortal must live on, and yet i may soon die unremembered and unknown.)
The Hunter
Dew wets the grass
I am the hunter
I walk a deadly path
I am hunting
Slipping through the trees
I am the hunter
I do it all with ease
I am hunting
There stood before me
Is the prey that I desire
A tremble running through me
Now I feel the hunters fire
I circle closer
Keeping her in sight
I circle closer
Don’t want to give her a fright
Now im behind her
So close now
I smell beautiful fur
So close now
Quickly I move
Tearing at her for what I want
Quickly I move
Now I will haunt her
I take my fill
I am the hunter
I leave her still
I have hunted
I definitely find your work inspiring and captivating hope am always updated on all your new working. I have a feeling that you will find my words fitting works of your hands.
thanks Nekitsune you have wonderful poems...very thought provoking...well penned...regards
I sent you a poem yesterday entitled Nov,1963, Did you get it? Jerry Wheeling
A memory is a soul of the past, painted on the fabric of the future. Between the soul and the future is the body, the senses and the moment. Here is Fox Nekitsune, naked and free, for a moment. A moment like a fire.