Huntsman

Death is stocking me, ever the consummate hunter, I am its prey

It hungers for my flesh and wishes to rip my soul away

It bears the razor teeth meant to pick my bones clean

Closely it pursues me

When I breathe out, you breathe in

It has already feasted ferociously on some of my loved ones

And is fast on the trail of others

Each loss leaving wounds on my heart

It will never stop

Its appetite is insatiable

But I will not be the willing quarry in this killers chase

I will fight, fearing not death itself, but the loss of the precious life I hold so dear

In the end I know deaths relentless predation will prevail, but

I will not make it easy, and I will relish each day God blesses me with

Stand back huntsman.....and wait