Poetry for the Heart <3

The Prey

Wandering armed through the woods,

I spot you like the prey seeing the hunter.

Lethally I step on brown leaves and loud sticks, which immediately snap under me.

Lamely you aim for the tree, ready to shoot, but I was long gone.

Jumping over broken logs, stepping on everything under me, hiding behind a tree, I wait.

Breathing softly and closing my eyes, I hear counting.

Regarding the trees softly, the hunter takes off his mask, knowing his prey is not his prey after all.

One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight…I uncover my eyes, and listen.

Another set of numbers and the hunter is close.

Did I run, I would be spotted and unknown,

Did I stay…

Ultimately if I stay,

Should, or will, I be more than prey?