The Look. 

I stare past you, face locked in an expression that used to serve me well. 

Ancient protector that held tormentors at bay, made me disappear like a magic trick. 

I can wipe your smile off your face quickly, the quickest predator in the land. 

But the predators have gone home,  why does the look still hunt for prey? 

– Thomas Spychalski 

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