the shadow's hunt
He stalks the night
making not a sound
lost in the whispers of the wind
wearing a cloak of darkness
he remains the unknown
to all but time itself
he hunts the night's prey
he catches glimpse of the hunted
death fills the air
he springs from the darkness
with but a blur of crimson and steel
he again disappears into the night
wrapping himself within the shadows
with no traceleft in his trail
except the lifeless shell of a man
but he will tell no tales of this night.
