The Hunter of Metaphors

The Maiden agonizes

Bleeds at his feet

Her heart torn out of her chest

Rots in his dirty hands

Blood smeared on his wedding ring

He presses and pulls her ribs

One by one

Some he scrapes clean with his teeth

Some he stabs right into her lungs

Just so she remembers the power

He wields over her

He is distracted

He looks away

The Maiden shall wait

While he chases fairies

Dwarves, dragons, metaphors

Wonderful creatures embedded

Hidden, layered in stories

He's the Hunter of sense

Secrets and meanings

The Maiden crawls away

Suffocates in her own blood

The Hunter seizes her leg and

Drags her back into his lair

He throws her down the stairs

And closes the door

He has princesses to save

The Maiden shall wait

Black

The darkness of the cave

The screen of my phone

The dreams of the Maiden

How many years of waiting?

Alone here the Maiden knows

She's already lost

She has to mourn

The Love she will never feel

The Mother she will never be

The Crone she will never see

Her cries muffled in the dark

Black walls

Black screen

She gags on her tears and then

She's gone

At night the Hunter shall return

To a bothering smell

A disturbing sight

The princess is disgusted

Get rid of this stench!

Hence he builds a pyre

To burn the thing

To keep her warm

He burnt her corpse to the ground

And from the ashes

The Witch was born, a

Woman

In

Total

Control of

Herself.