The Hunting Party


Terrifying noises

Chase me from my home

But as I run away

Faster still they come


Their henchmen are behind me

Nipping at my heels

Their howling voices snarling

How each of them feels


The heat of their breath

Seems to burn my feet

And from their mouths to my nose

Wafts the stench of rotting meat


Closer still they gather

Each baying their deadly song

And as my muscles weakened

I wondered how I could go on


Thicker forest ahead of me

Give me hope to get away

Their master’s fear of darkness

Seemed to always hold sway


With an extra burst of speed

I finally pull ahead

Only to hear whizzing shots

Flying past my head


I’m almost in the forest

When the last few come

And as one tears through my flesh

I stumble forward, dumb


Why did I go through this,

Why did I even run?

Because when the humans hunt you

It’s over before it has begun.



Interesting and exciting poem!  I like how you reflected upon the the side of the hunted animal, and  I love your diction--words like "henchmen" and "snarling" help add a sinister mood to your piece.

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