(Written in a predators pov.)


In shadows where hunters always roam,

A predator dreams of a gentle home.

Sharp fangs and claws, once fierce and bright,

Now crave the warmth of love’s soft sunlight.

A heart that raced with every chase,

Now wants to feel a lover’s grace.

To be the one who’s sought, desired,

In passion’s fire, to be inspired.

To no longer be fierce, but gently held,

In arms where love’s sweet stories dwell.

To feel a gaze, a touch so light,

To be the prey in the calm of night.

A wild soul tamed by a tender kiss,

In love’s embrace, to find true bliss.

To trade the hunt for loving eyes,

And be the one who softly sighs.

Each silent prowl holds a quiet plea,

“Let me be caught, let me be free.”

The predator’s heart, it beats anew,

Longing for love, sincere and true.

No longer feared, but gently sought,

In love’s kind snare, forever caught.

“Make me the hunted,” whispers low,

“Let love pursue, let passion grow.”