The End Begins

We give form to the formless with our words…
The night stills then rumbles while the storm passes overhead
And in the darkness the formless grows and spreads

It is black, deep, and unseen
It curls beside you in your pity
It feeds upon the stale air of resentment, or regret

The thunder, again after the lightning
Sweeping across the sky in horrible fury
Telling tales of those who’ve come before, and will come again in the night

This very night hooves thunder, like the sky thunders
Riders calling, wild, and gunshots sound across the plains
Here, right here, the killing-blow was struck

When the animal fell
It did not limp to the River, nor will you
For the Wait has ended, and the Hunt begins again…

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