Archery

No Cupid,

My arrows are not for hearts,

It’s wild nature I seek,

Where the spirits lie,

Hidden in glades,

Surrounded by madness,

Besieged by clawing hands,

And glazed eyes,

They’re more animal than I,

With my muddy feet,

And soot stained cheeks,

I pass unseen,

In their starched world,

Where people behave like animals,

And nature is their godless feast,

I wear duality like a cloak,

A guise in which I hunt lost beasts,

While it’s wild hearts I seek.

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