A stag in the bag

Leaping agility
Acceleration
Down through the heather
A sprint whose creation
Offers the spirit
Of being with family
Together fleetness and fleeing
Into the sea, taste the salt
Crisp and dry
Swift fast and rapidly
Under a sky
Of crisp blue enamel
The sea cold and grey
Together we dream
As we plunged on our way

A shot I could hear it
And, felt it too
It entered my body
And it went straight through
A darkness was coming
My blood spilled away
A pang of finality
Nothing to say
Just to make for the bank
Just to struggle and strive
Bleeding needing
Am I alive

They were gone in a instant
Hooves flashing away
Nobody looked back
Just clouds of spray
Somewhere over yonder
The hunters were waiting
I just about saw them
Always was hating
Ambush for from far away
Gleefully there
Must get myself onto the bank
One last prayer

The bastards they watched me
They knew I was hit
In an agonised dance
The light in me lit
No more i was dying
Reaching the shore
That was it
I was gone
I was no more

A stag in their bag
Bleeding fast very raw.

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
This entry was posted in Abandonment, activism, animals used for food, Hunting and Poaching ( includes canned hunts). Bookmark the permalink.

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