December 9, 2011
Freezing rain,
An icy glare,
look of disdain
Towards an avenging angel, with fire-y hair

Snarls rip through the night,
Running, sprinting through the crowd,
Cannot beat him without flight,
“Darkness come, be my shroud”

Time slows down,
My brain is racked,
Hear the hounds,
What I know of being Tracked?

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