Naked Boy in Snowy Forest with Bird in Hands

Quivering souls, 
shivering soles.
Icy hands, 
icy feet. 
I see 
the sun peeking 
through the trees, 
I see 
a gun leaking 
endlessly. 
Skull it holds, 
bullet holes. 
We are hunted by hands unseen. 
We are hunted by what should have been.

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