Hunt

David Policar 1993

Blood pulses hot within you, and your soul sings sweet with life,
And your flesh longs for the promise that is all that now is real,
The promise made in hunt and kill, with blood and bone and knife,
The need that those who dwell in darkness feel.

It is that need he lives to fill; that passion he'll deliver.

Seek him not in daytime, for he is not of the light.
Seek him not in buildings; stone walls he dwells not inside.
Seek him in the fields and plains, in empty streets at night,
In jungles dark where fears no longer hide.

He cries, That fear I'll be for thee, and seek thee out forever.

It is the wolf you seek, O man, his promise and his need.
You know him in your passions, and the deeds those passions wreak,
In lusts and games, in dark rooms filled with fear and rage and greed,
In sheltered halls when kings and jesters speak.

He howls, not far outside your walls that shield and lights that shine,
Seek me out and bare thy throat; and all I have is thine.