#стейнкрафт

It’s inconspicuous by nature
And calmly hated by design.
How merciless it sways in patience,
How kindred it’s with your demise

The crazy walks behind your shadow,
It stalks your puny, fearful sight.
The slight of hand is all it’s taking
To feast on your so fragile mind.

The branches creaking in old fashion,
The air is putrid far from home —
My country boy ignites with passion
And his truck’s taking every turn.

Tyres whizzle, smoking horrid gases,
Yet Figure by him ’s undeterred.
How long their locks are, flailing sideways,
How mirror fogs up, fingers curl.

The boy, so curious in nature,
Has opened his heart long ago.
And this abhorrent, slimy creature
Designed its home there ‘midst his bones.