For me the term to hunt
\nhas always sickened
\nit raises a cold sweat
\nfrom deep within
\nbeing chased by people
\nwho clearly want to harm you
\ncreates such angst
\nand fills your heart with sin<\/p>\n
you feel that your whole body
\nis now racing
\nyour eyes feel sharper
\nrapidly you see
\nfright and fear
\nit all is here
\nit grabs you
\nyou shake and shiver
\nvery violently<\/p>\n
anywhere than here
\nthe consternation
\nit is the feeling
\nall our friends do get
\nchased by men with rifles
\nand packs of yelping hounds
\nthis is the purest terror
\never yet<\/p>\n
all sorts of shocking thoughts
\ncut through your being
\nsentient’s do experience them all
\nshots ring out
\nits all about your prowess
\nsomehow you must get away
\nand not fall<\/p>\n
as a bullet ricochet’s
\nand cuts across you
\nyou smell that whiff
\nof cordite on your nose
\nthey are getting ever closer
\nyou can hear their chests a panting
\ntrepidation as that torment
\ngrows<\/p>\n
you hear them now
\nencircling your reason
\nand so you realise
\nthat they are sure
\nyou are going to get it
\nin a moment
\nand you had better
\nunderstand what for<\/p>\n
your precious life and memories
\nare worthless
\nthey want your blood
\nto paint it in the trees
\nthey want your guts
\nto hang them from the branches
\nand share them with the crow
\nadversaries<\/p>\n
ready to engorge
\nyour flailing spirits
\nconsign you to their
\nhaven far below
\nin their loins where fantasy
\nis rampant
\nwhere the vilest gratification
\nwants to flow <\/p>\n
as for me one last thought
\nof my comrades
\nhopefully they carry on the fight
\nand I will meet ancestors
\nin the forest
\nat the rainbow bridge
\nwith the summer lands in sight<\/p>\n
soulfully and seemingly
\nre united with my friends
\nwho simply went before me
\nthe message that it sends
\nthe men are now down on you
\nin a great frenzy of fear
\nintoxicated morons
\nraised on gore I hear<\/p>\n
apparently so pleased
\nabout your agony
\nthe sight of blood
\nexcites them through and through
\nthey got off on the blood lust
\njust, from that experience
\nas down you went
\nwith the hounds on top of you<\/p>\n
bold as brass they kick the dust
\nand holler
\nhigh five, faces swollen from the
\nchase
\nknives out tearing pieces
\nfrom your body
\nand everything about them
\nis so base
\nwhy they take this attitude
\ntowards us
\nI just, cannot fathom at this time
\nbut clearly they are shot away
\nand corrupted
\nas we the great cold warriors
\ndo climb<\/p>\n
out of all the pits
\nwhere they have thrown us
\nthe natural world is on our case
\nand we
\nwill once again roam over dale and hillock
\nand honour what is our true destiny <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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 … Continue reading