Heart Like a War Drum

The hunt is on

Bloodhounds are on the scent

Snarling and growling to a ruptured end

Creatures of the waning sun

Look up to the darkening sky

Scream their prayers

To a God that won’t listen.

Lift up their white hands

Rosary beads interweaving in their fingers

The night is young, the moon heavy

With the roars of newborns

Scrambling to be free of their dark cages

They speak no language but that of thirst.

Human screams break the night

Contented hisses fill the silence

And your heart is like a war drum

Singing a requiem for the human race

The hunt has begun and will end

At the

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

Of the last red drop.