New masks,
New ages.
never tell me
us cryptids cant adapt
Worldly things,
Becoming distractions from our greater natures.
Held paradoxically in place,
Reduced to the same whims –
As humans.
Drug down to a level of ants,
Or termites.
Step on me.
I’ll survive,
Somehow.
Go big game hunting,
Thereafter.
Big Game Hunting.
