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.