Hunting for a future
Hunting for a life
Hunting for a meaning
To not end it tonight

Hunting for a mirror
That doesn’t reflect strife
Searching for an answer
When the question’s never right

Searching for the devil
Under the pale moonlight
Searching for forever
In the middle of a fight

Searching for the handle
Of the blade that’s in my back
Searching for the color
When all I see is black

Searching in my heart
For the love it always lacks
Searching for some shelter
From the endless reign of attacks

Searching for my enemy
In every hand I hold
Searching for some peace
In a land it isn’t sold

Searching for some warmth
In a heart forever cold
Searching for the treasure
But never finding gold

Searching for the best
By bringing out the worst
Searching for the bubbles
To come along and burst

Hunting near the tower
Where she brings out your thirst
Searching in the pages
Of how to stop her curse

Searching in a shadow
Where a truth was still a first
Searching any bottle
Or any woman who can nurse

Searching for the cure
But nothing ever works
Kissing many frogs
But only finding jerks

Searching for an exit
Where it doesn’t ever hurt
Searching for the day
You put in more effort

Searching and hunting
But only gathering dirt
He’s an ocean on an island
And time is the desert

© Delia Ross. 2019

Oh my goodness, kinda long, I hope it wasn’t too boring. I’m sorry my intelligence is that of a child and I can’t lure you in with exotic words and fancy punctuation. I know I’m not enough, I never have been voluptuous in any area. *sigh

5 thoughts on “Hunter

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  1. I don’t know what to say, thank you. I am glad it did not bore you! 😆 Things I post get so little attention sometimes and then I face regret or maybe embarrassment, it is probably more of a pride thing. It is like when you know you’re not good at something but you try your best anyway cuz you like it. But everyone around you is so much better at everything. It’s like when you were a kid and you wanted to hang out with the adults but no one wants you at the party.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I know the feeling. For a long time when I first started blogging, I got extremely nervous whenever I did… pretty much anything on here. Feeling like I had no business being here, asking myself who cared what I wrote. I’ve gotten better with that though. I guess I’ve realized… That I care. What I write, matters to me. The rest is secondary.

    Besides… As a kid, you don’t get to hang out with the adults. But, you hang out with the other kids; with the people who can and will understand you. And then one day, you all will be the adults, and it will be *your* party.

    Liked by 1 person

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