Predator and Prey
"Predator & Prey"
Malice & Scar
Scar
He stepped out of the element, from winters aggressive siege
Inside, the faint velveteen voice of Anka claiming his Destiny*
As rain and sleet fell unexpectedly on waning shrubs and leaves
His domain was a homely lit hospice against the weight of the season
Hobbies ranging from painting to baking to maintaining his demons
Every evening he’d hear their screaming voices and cries
Noises that drives him crazy; The fire flaming,
disturbing his quiet haven. Poised though contrived
He kept them captive. Chained up in silence, caged in
a 5 x 5 containment, barely alive in his basement
Some call it madness- perhaps a crime, but at least he can find
The missing peace - of a fragile,feeble fractured mind.
Malice
Under the guise of a victim, she then became one herself
She had spied her friend missing and she decided to help
Dressed herself in alluring clothes, snowflakes intertwined
In her hair and freckled face, he saw her and he inclined
Barbarically silenced her with his advantage of stature
He quickly snatched her, careful not to damage during the capture
Robbed her of innocence, imprisoned her in one of the cages
Textbook slave, wasn't envisioning, she had become one of the pages
Scar
they all sought that story book ending,
Assorted looks, blending tears and mascara
Pending fear; smeared across treks, whereas
The eerie back-lot lent us drama, completing the illusion
A somber tale jostling with uncertain conclusion
It's usually the hook. There’s a science to sizing’em up
Scenarios and presuppositions took into account before the violence erupts
Outside, the skies’ letting up - then it begins.., "hey pretty eyes, what is up?"
Malice
She decided, victim she is not and said "Nothing much."
Looked in his eyes, felt a rush but decided to blush
Batt her lashes, needed his trust, to do this she must
Pull the best stunt since Leonardo on that wood with the Dutch
With her allure, became his favorite, her breath his inhale
She got privileges she came to cherish in this little hell
Moved from cages to satin sheets, from slave to the mistress
The mind games limitless, once prey now a witness
Scar
There’s something different with this one.
Per procedure, he’d scan for small ticks,
Her podgy lips all but scarred bits of skin visibly missing
“You’re looking jolly, miss” he insisted softly; grinning
“Look what i bought you?” hinting on something grand.
His hands were huge highways of scars and calluses
And she studied him intently; his posture, practices
As He unrolls the cloth to reveal an axe - its his
Mannerism, The planning the prison, ids and egos,
His breathing, she keenly denoted - deep and slow
She conceded for show. She knew he needed control
And she plan to use it to her advantage.
She glanced up at the window
the land still deep in snow