The light flickers on and off in the
nearby mouth of the Hunter.
As the time of death approaches,
are you considered to be dead already?
Do others preach of what was?
Knowing that moments to come will
soon fade into months and years
without recognition,
what are you to do?
The depth of your persona turns into a legend,
or maybe a lost manuscript on how to
perfectly work this little thing
called life, which no one will ever find
beneath your damaged soul.
How are these timely treasures spent
when there’s nothing else around
except you and the end?
Others envied you. Others loathed you.
But I loved you from within.
I can’t tell you this now, because soon
it won’t matter. Whatever we shared
won’t matter. So why did we
chase it so far and end up here?
Where you and I soon seize to exist.
I wait for you.
You walk over, enter the grasp
of the Hunter, and without looking
back, breathe your last to
blow out the candle.
