The Thrill Of The Hunt.

Lust fades, Thrill dies.
Prey seized, Stray Lies.
What was once coveted no longer applies.
The passion absent. No binds tied.
It was fun to chase you. Enjoyable to a fault.
I'll admit I was enraptured. A willing captive in your vault.
But times changed as well as feelings.
Words fall short as well as meanings.
What was once all I needed turned into what I wanted.
And what I wanted was only because I had it. Madness.
How could my most prized possession become an afterthought?
Has time spent together become the bane I never sought?
Once a predator has it's prey, it feeds, and then dismisses.
In this instance the prey happens to have the title of Mrs.
I was content where I was, and though I will stay.
I miss the thrill of the hunt and will soon seek new prey.