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.
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