She had a plan to fill that empty,
gnawing feeling that the bottle would
no longer fill. She would become
the Hunter instead of the hunted,
the killer in the dark.
No longer would she be a puddle for
men to step in, to infest with their
seed and leave. Romance was no longer
enough to cover a lifetime of pain and
disappointment. Resentment giving
away to the need to exact revenge for
the pain caused. The need to put
theory into action, to be rid of the
hopeless feelings her life had become.
She would no longer be their prey,
but she would become their predator.
Author notes
Written August 3rd, 2006
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Merry meet Mau Rose,
Thank you for your kind words and for commenting on my poem. I'm glad that you have an inkling.
Amythest -
hmm... "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" has new meaning here... all those idiots who take advantage of women better be careful, or they'll get a taste of their own medicine
(I'm a guy, but I understand the feeling, I think)
great. -
I like this, the words were used wonderfully...it paints a very interesting picture...wonderful write keep up the great work and good luck in my contest!
<333 Niccy
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