The hunt is too easy.
The prey was too weak.
She got soft herself
In the middle.
To the core
In the places which make her whole.
She forgot the rules.
Of thine own.
Of what is known you must be true.
His game of chase was cruel.
Ruthless & too rare to be real.
So recoil girl, retract your emotions & go back to the jungle.
Where you know no one catches you.
No wolf in sheep’s clothing.
No snake in the grass.
No other lion or notions of bliss.
Can take her down.
With fangs, claws or feelings of being dismissed.
She’ll lick her wounds.
She’ll walk the treacherous paths.
Even when she's hurt & left bleeding.
She'll still kick your ass.