The Hunter

Day time late afternoon No sun to be seen As I look up All I see a blanket of cloud covering the sky So cold Snow falls upon the mountain tops Silent is the wind and haunting the forrest A lone wolf howls, his echo a cry within No mercy I shoot I am the hunter Red blood oozes into the frozen snow Lifeless yet still warm Brutal and raw Judgment to oneself as into the fray I prey A man who hunts may some day Become the hunted.