Blaring drumbeats of the heart
Cloud his ailing vision.
Legs are about to give in to
Steely eyes that feast on his
Fatigued body.
Stumbles on a pebble; feeble wrists
Snap as his hands kiss the jagged rocks.
The pack of rabid wolves approach,
Licking their lips with anticipation.
In a circle they go taunting, sneering,
Relishing at the sight of terror incarnate.
Why so savage?
Why prey on the innocent?
Why do your steely eyes long for my flesh?
A graceful angel hunted and persecuted
Regardless of his noble acts.
Don’t you know, ingenuous man?
It’s the law of the land.
He who is adored by many will be hunted
By the few
Vacuous minds subservient to envy
Who will not rest until
Your head is on a silver platter.
Don’t you know, ingenuous man?
It’s the law of the land.
Hunt or be hunted.
Resist and the demons shall flee.