Within the void of ink that is the night
She waits with bated breath
Yellow stars twinkle in sheer delight
As red, opens the maw of death
Silent blow the winds through reeds
As choked another life slips
Past ivory gates stained with crimson deeds
And dark the warm tunnel grips
Slow the speed of rouge through vein
For empty pumps shall cease
Deriving sustence from the pain
A savannah huntress feasts
Tags: poetry cats
