Blood in the water.
The scent, an old friend to one familiar with slaughter
Aging and withered, best days past and bitter,
the predator's ever-sure instinct delivers.
Just a sliver; a shadow of a menacing presence
still threatening? Forget it. Maybe in adolescence,
but life's third act is present. Violent in essence,
he's basically bound for the heavens.
Final kill's transpired. Glory bound, target acquired,
struggling, lifting his weak frame from the depths - bones of wire
Vision fading. Motivation? Jaded, yet hungry
never sated. Lunging, breaking water, motions clunky
The predator saw his prey and bloody aftermath;
opened his jaws,
and uttered to the traveler:
Quote:
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Originally Posted by Barcotic
my blicky'll spaz on this hideous bastard, n im splitting right after
imna put 3 ingredients curry away quicker than an indian bachelor
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