We walked in the breath of dawn, boots sinking into frost- laced earth.
Hunger in our chests, steel on our backs.
my fellow huntsman was a legend before the wind.
He had a stone locked in his gloved palm, colder than the moon.
Which gives an invisible shield unseen, stretching in wide spectrum.
The spectrum makes predators shivered to silence.
And makes preys locked in stiff surrender.
The town sang his name in whispers whenever he brought big games.
Maidens brought him gifts, voices turned lore of his fame.
But when the king spoke, the ground shook.
Of a unicorn, rare as time, hunted not for beauty.
And told my fellow to catch it for a huge prize.
I heard from a servant that there were murmurs in shadowed king’s halls.
that power resented and there was envy in silk robes.
That the deadly unicorn doesn’t succumb to his chilliest stone.
I warned my fellow of this news but his words fell on pride, his laughter sharp as breaking ice.
We rode into the hush of deep forest,
mist curling around, then the air stiffened, colder than death.
The unicorn stood, eyes like knowing stars,
horn aglow and penetrated the stone’s reach.
And my companion—his breath froze mid-boast,
arms stiff, fingers curled around his own undoing.
The stone fell to the ground and gunshots were fired.
Even in bloody bruises the unicorn got closer and closer.
It picked the stone with its teeth, tilted its head to my fellow, and vanished.
Stupefied, my friend looked at me, his power vanquished .
Scanning the area, I gasped pointing my hand to an shiny object recognizable.
It was a crown of a someone we knew it belongs to and very recognizable.
Poet of the Winter · page 28 · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
This poem is a gripping tale of pride, power, and downfall, set against a mystical winter landscape. With rich imagery and an air of legend, it tells the story of a famed huntsman who wields a supernatural stone—only to be undone by forces beyond his control.
The poem opens with two hunters trekking through frost-bitten terrain, hunger gnawing at them. One of them, a legendary huntsman, possesses a stone "colder than the moon," granting him an invisible shield that paralyzes prey and silences predators. Revered in the town, his hunting feats become lore, earning him admiration and gifts.
The king, however, presents a challenge: capturing a deadly unicorn—not for beauty, but for an unknown prize. Whispers in the royal halls hint at jealousy and unseen threats, warning that the unicorn is impervious to the huntsman’s stone. Dismissing caution, the huntsman, blinded by pride, laughs with icy confidence.
Entering the dark forest, they find the unicorn—its "eyes like knowing stars," its radiant horn piercing through the huntsman’s power. In a moment of cruel irony, his breath freezes, and he is rendered immobile by the very force he once controlled.
Gunshots ring, yet the unicorn approaches undeterred, picking up the fallen stone with its teeth before vanishing. Stunned, the huntsman realizes his strength has been stripped away. The final revelation—a recognizable crown—suggests betrayal, power struggles, or a deeper truth hidden beneath the hunt.