|A jungle beast
prowls the forest floor. Drawn by scent and instinct, it makes no choices except to
follow, follow the scent that leads to necessity. Instinct, desire, the same,
required....Many questions wait in the shadows for answers that can only come from one
source, and the questions have no meaning, only the answer waiting to be found. Fire plays
within a body, lighting eyes, heating skin, forcing its way out in growls and groans.
Hungry for the feast, the beast follows the scent. Moving rapidly through the twisting
paths of deceit and ambiguity, it feels with clarity, moving closer. Crouched with the
fire of desire, it stalks, silently seeking its prey, its mate, fulfillment, release...With
silent fury it pounces, taking life in bloody lust, lapping the soul it sought and found.
Instinct takes its toll in tearing, biting pieces and warm life in bloody mouthfuls. Like
the jungle, merciless, passionate, beautiful, it takes and gives, releasing as it is
released to devour and breathe the future of life. Hungry growls escape this mind, sharpen
these fingers to claws, light these eyes to fires. In passionate embrace, I find and am
lost, to instinct.