The Hunted

 
Casual passersby
Send fear on the prowl
Hunting, scouring
For the meat of anxious hearts

I waver
In the muck
Of daily pleasantries

In the mire
Of placid words
Devoid of any true purpose

Silence is refuge
Aloft, in the folds
Of restless thoughts

Where the winds
Thrive only to sooth
And send away
Every thread of dismay