Thirst

As the beast stalks its prey

It salivates and licks its chops

All it can see is red

Nothing but fresh blood

To quench its thirst is crucial

It will get what it wants

So says this curse.

It will drink until satisfied

Every last drop like fine wine

But when the morning comes

The beast will have no recollection

Nothing but a lifeless doe as evidence

And the thirst torments the beast again.

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