The Hunt ( by a wolf being hunted)

For me the term to hunt
has always sickened
it raises a cold sweat
from deep within
being chased by people
who clearly want to harm you
creates such angst
and fills your heart with sin

you feel that your whole body
is now racing
your eyes feel sharper
rapidly you see
fright and fear
it all is here
it grabs you
you shake and shiver
very violently

anywhere than here
the consternation
it is the feeling
all our friends do get
chased by men with rifles
and packs of yelping hounds
this is the purest terror
ever yet

all sorts of shocking thoughts
cut through your being
sentient’s do experience them all
shots ring out
its all about your prowess
somehow you must get away
and not fall

as a bullet ricochet’s
and cuts across you
you smell that whiff
of cordite on your nose
they are getting ever closer
you can hear their chests a panting
trepidation as that torment
grows

you hear them now
encircling your reason
and so you realise
that they are sure
you are going to get it
in a moment
and you had better
understand what for

your precious life and memories
are worthless
they want your blood
to paint it in the trees
they want your guts
to hang them from the branches
and share them with the crow
adversaries

ready to engorge
your flailing spirits
consign you to their
haven far below
in their loins where fantasy
is rampant
where the vilest gratification
wants to flow

as for me one last thought
of my comrades
hopefully they carry on the fight
and I will meet ancestors
in the forest
at the rainbow bridge
with the summer lands in sight

soulfully and seemingly
re united with my friends
who simply went before me
the message that it sends
the men are now down on you
in a great frenzy of fear
intoxicated morons
raised on gore I hear

apparently so pleased
about your agony
the sight of blood
excites them through and through
they got off on the blood lust
just, from that experience
as down you went
with the hounds on top of you

bold as brass they kick the dust
and holler
high five, faces swollen from the
chase
knives out tearing pieces
from your body
and everything about them
is so base
why they take this attitude
towards us
I just, cannot fathom at this time
but clearly they are shot away
and corrupted
as we the great cold warriors
do climb

out of all the pits
where they have thrown us
the natural world is on our case
and we
will once again roam over dale and hillock
and honour what is our true destiny