On The Hunt
Crack the nut crack the sea-dweller’s claw,
Rip open the rabid dog’s jaw.
The teeth are too sharp, the wolf too strong,
Your choice was made, but it was too wrong.
Now you sit stunned and bleeding, a stump for an arm.
But you still have your courage, you held in your guts.
You stayed in your mind, didn’t go nuts.
Now you have to let go, can’t be afraid of no cuts.
So run, run, run; on the hunt you go.
The instincts you must follow, from them you will know.
Run into the forest, lighted so dim.
Hunt down the beast that cost you a limb.
Would you dare:
To snatch her babies by the hair?
Then rip apart their flesh and have your feast there,
Murder you enemy’s only care.
She may be a wolf, but you are The Bear.
Paranoia surrounds you, the insects do, too.
You wait for your prey in the bloodbath of a zoo.
And from a rich feast, you know you grew.
And maybe those offspring deserved to be slew.
And here she comes now,
A wolf on the prowl.
A grimace shows,
What she learned from her nose.
But it is your turn to win,
In too many defeats you have sat in.
You have suffered the death of many kin,
Against you were brought horrible sins.
So, rise, my beast, you will not fall,
Raise the single remaining paw,
And strike down with it, exposed claw,
And eat her flesh; eat it raw.
And when you are done, to the Wilderness you must call.
Proclaim you have conquered them all.
For today, you enter the Gods’ Hall.
You have killed, you have mauled.
Reward for violence cannot be stalled.
You statue will be imposing and tall.
And those that come will be held in awe.
Can you hear them now starting; the screech of the saw?