I live in a desolate place,
North of the most Northern of Cities,
The glens of heather are my dominion,
Snow capped tips that pierce the brutal skies,
As lightening rends your heart,
Thunderclaps reverberate from granite Monroe,
Ferns bend to the rains will,
Cascading waterfalls swell,
Streams morph themselves into torrents,
The loam of the earth is sated.

Cave is my habitat,
Dark, dank, aromatic, yet ageless,
Cave is my habitat,
Subterranean womb of Mother Nature herself.

Fire, my only friend,
Loyal, serving, protector of man,
Flames flicker whilst shadows dance,
Light in the jet of night,
Predators lurk on its periphery,
Anticipating offers of sustenance,
Biding for opportunity,
Palpable frustration in dawns breaking,
Hunger, despondent,
The hunter evolves, now hunted,
Survivals perpetual cycle,

Cave is my habitat,
Shelter of stone, solid, substantial,
Cave is my habitat,
Guardian of my hearth.

You are safe,
You can open your eyes,
You are safe,
How do you feel?



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