question everything   |
~ublog |
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crackle in the dark jungle night by the watering hole where the tigers walk soft measured steps without a crackle, a whisper, in silent thought the floor covered rotting leaves and moss sliver of moonlight sparkles the eyes and glints off the gun stock the air dead, the wind naught stare and startle majestic head raised, questions will fall down dead doubts silenced, or not ears cocked, keen, intense wayward leaf, apostate banished, falls, drawn as if, by the silent rock settles crisply, next to the careful foot time, muscles, fingers, tightened squeeze, now! now! now! no, wait, aim, adjust, crackle, noooo!!! the hunted is lost, gone each with a story, one to narrate, one to boast. |