The Hunted
poem by:
Adam S
Written
on Jan 27, 2018
Eyes shut in preparation, without sight, still I hear
Clenching my rifle as arctic air invades my lungs
Tingling hairs stand on end as I am filled with fear
Perplexed my thoughts seem to speak in tongues
Pelts fastened upon my fireplace, trophies of victory
Triumphs decline to a present defeat, my secluded war
A lacerated tunic discarded, donning a cloak of misery
My home now a prison as the wolves knock at my door
Forests now gather, a merciless crusade of hook and claw
Walls heave, hordes of beasts come to consume me raw
Callous, void of law, without clemency, they cannot withdraw
Brute strength, teeth measure arm's length without flaw
Savage roars burn my soul as fangs descend into flesh
Resistance futile, weapons turn to blades made blunted
Consciousness fades as zealous jaws grip and thresh
As the hunter has now forever become the hunted