Lassus's Poetry
 

The Hunter

The Hunter's ravens spread wings and fly
He, himself, shall never die
The Hunter's hounds hunting in a run
Lighting in his eyes all he will shun

The Hunter's shadow spreads over all
None can deny him, everything must fall
The Hunter's blade cuts all low and high
Never to him can you lie

The Hunter's work is never done
Nor would a good man consider it fun
The Hunter's face, forever conceled by a shawl
You will go with him, as none escape his call

For the Hunter is Death

Chains

The chains and ropes that bind us all
some are inside us in our heart
others are different places in our mind
or our soul but all chains can be sweet or tart

They hold us in place
and hold us back
or support us in times of need
as comfort when we lack

Sometimes you can choose your bindings
other times it comes like a trap
unknown
leaveing you with no map

Love is one of thoes bindings
it can lead to more
many run from it
some, a very few truely open the door

Once the door is open however
the flood will never end
no binding tried can close it
it is a link that can never break only bend

A true tie is like this
it creates other binds
ropes that hold us too the ones we love
in our hearts and minds...