The Hunt

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The snow fell
The wolves dwell

In the forest
borne from steep.

The darker dell
The Millers well

And the stars
That guide their meet

The silent pack
Howl and attack

We preach
And feast

These
Forest beasts

That divide
The farmers hides

The ring of metal
The silent echo

We blame
This seasons snare

The smell of blood
Fills the air.

What they do
Is out of love

For pack
And place they share.

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