Hunting - Mount Eerie

With no wind tearing through

No air in the morning

The haunting of the building is left to me

To appear in the room

To embody a specter

To fulfill the pregnant former factory

Flooded with fluorescent light

Drowned in ventilation

Offices alone at night, humming

Dwelling on the past to bring the dead to life

I walk slowly every night

Through the empty rooms of the changing shape

Hunting the white stag to see beyond

To the ancient pursuit

Following a feeling

To here where you found it dead in the mud