Bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me. I resrt to violence, knowing Mother raised me saying to never let furious pain define me.
But I enjoy chaos.
Attack the tall, tall trees that stand over and dare reach for my furr, protect the ones at risk of being lured.
Run, rabbit, Run, rabbit, run, run, run. For when you open your eyes, you'll be the only anomaly left to burn.
"Sinner! Sinner! Sinner!" Go the townfolk. Run, little lamb. Run, little Eern. Run, run to me and never return.
Blue waters, grass fields. Wide spaces, many scars to heal. Only wait for a moment to find his vison has turned teal.
Devil, hear me. Devil, let me through. Brother will soon arrive and is in need of food.
Devil, hear me. Devil, close the gates. A disturbance, an interferance has found its way in and put the lamb in a haze.
"Let me help you," the voice says, "what you need is to calm your hunger."
"Who are you?" Eern yells. "I don't remember something so strage guiding me through."
YOU ARE READING
Records Of Deer and Lamb.
FantasySomething I thought of bc I was bored. Hope you like it! I'm not much of a poet, so this writting is gonna a bit weird and bad. Basically an old-style fairytale, how dark and messed up they use to be. Why? I like messed up shit! Basically, these two...
