The Hunt

The Day is rough

I am upset

Life is troubling

And I feel much unrest

 

Where do I go

What do I do?

That's not a question

For the Woods knows

 

The quiet trees

And open fields

There is no feeling like it

Silence.

 

No one to bother me

No one to tell me what to do

Just me, my bow, and the woods

Ready to start fresh

 

Every hunt is a new beginning

You have no clue what might happen

When that sun starts to set

I start to get happy

 

A few hours is all I need

To relax, and just breathe

Whether I succeed or not

Each hunt is succesful, each in it's own way

 

I love this land

And all that is given to me

For a few hours out there

Makes it possible, to live

 

When times are rough I turn to timber

To soothe my trouble and calm my tremble

I thank the woods for all it does for me

And pray to God I can see this sun for all of History

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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