Hunter's plea

A trying to be free mind, soul like of this typical kind. Hopefully and absolutely not its kind or had a different essence or preferably and possibly nothing at all.

A body so beautiful yet corrupted looking for another place to linger and have it scarred, make it stronger somehow and for real...invulnerable.

When or if ever to decay, hope to turn from ashes of gray to orange with streaks of darkness.

To darkness of green and under its shade it belongs.

A heart of blood and weakness, its existence depends on who holds it. Enslave, imprisoned, buried.

Its purpose can be completely ignored, but what it can do deeply troubles anyone within its range.

A killer without a plan to kill, but delights when to make or have a kill. Killing makes it free.

Free to love even if it weakened.

Only mountains make him at home.

To a war he dreamed to belong.

And only for her, he remained a stranger of himself.

He loved the stranger because he loves her.

Her was a phantom of bright enlightens, but lingers in his mind. Stagnant like a clogged sink or a dammed river.

But he who claims doesn’t know how to love was so much in love. For him the world is there not to be lived on by billions of species, but just to be written.

Romantically written and curved in a bark of a tree.

A world with just two names living in it, placed inside by their own creators, themselves.

A bark of a tree and a world with two names live longer than of the hands who curved, which makes it a memory.

Ideal for immortality, Love and to love is ideal, therefore love is immortal. A piece of logic neither a common sense nor sanity.

Just talk about her, then bliss overpowers complications and life. Bliss can kill...but through her...

I still live.