The Hunt
The day plays host To 38 degrees Humidity joins in As the sun dances Over the hunting ground The hunter patrols Alert eyed The thrill of the hunt He scans The savanna
Its day two Of the hunt And He is prepared Escape routes Are mined By traps With protruding spikes He holds a net
His objective Is to tire his prey And when It is overwhelmed Cast his net To capture it Before It recuperates Speed Strength And cunning Will determine Its fate
The sun sets Positioning To the west The prey circles Then approaches Eyes are fixed on it It lifts its head Aware Of his presence
The hunter emerges From the bush The prey flees Walls of spikes Deny passage Failing Its flight The prey turns Heart-racing Faster than A timekeepers watch Some yards From the hunter There is an escape That is unblocked Their eyes Make contact
A race begins To reach The cut off point A sense Of fierce danger Fills the air They approach fast A second behind Will ruin the day For the hunter Or the prey
A moment Of silence Captures the two Followed by A loud smash The hunter lies Face down As his prey flees Without A scratch
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