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The Hunt
Concealed by the shadows, I slink through the forest,
feeling the wind ruffle my fur, I stalk the deer that in my land is a tourist.
I feel the soft earth and crunchy leaves beneath my feet,
and my mouth waters at the scent of meat.
Keeping my body close to the floor,
I creep out onto the open moor.
I can feel the waves of fear coming off the deer,
as I draw near and near, and even near.
Once the wind shifts and carries the deer my scent,
I know that my time is hiding is spent.
I charge out into the tall grass making the chase begin,
It’s only a matter of who will win.
As I trip the old deer it lets out a screech,
as I finish it off it lies at my feet.
I howl in my victory for today my pack will feed,
and this meat is the very thing that we need.
For I am a wolf, and survival is key.
The life of my pack depends on me.
I hunt and I search, I fight and I run,
Until I join the fallen past the sun.
For I am a wolf, strong and proud;
and the howls of my pack are joyful and loud.
I've always had a big facination with wolves, and would love to be one. Sometimes getting lost in writting poetry like this makes it feel real. Kind of like a dream.