You are now the hunted

He wakes one afternoon

it doesn't matter the time

for awake and asleep are but tools of the hunt

in the jungles of introspection


he decides to make a fire

and as it sparks he sees the light

the hellish heat, the welcoming warmth

the crazy random chaotic rage, the harmonic hues in simple structure


for he sees his answer in the irony of fire

his objective goal, his prey

it is his self in the past mocking him now

while hiding in the bushes of time


and it is then, when his prey is known

that his hunter emerges from the jungles

grand, powerful, skillful, deceptive

he knows he must run away


but "NO!" he declares "NOT NOW!"

not when his prey is so near

and he does something brave, he abstains

he resists his ancient instincts


his hunter knows this, it's obvious

and does something remarkable too

he stands his ground and smiles knowingly

exposing himself to his prey


confused, amazed, flabbergasted

he despises his hunter's arrogance

but like the ironic fire it is a new feeling

not bad. not good.


and in his confusion, darkness

his hunter extinguished his fire

yet it's not fear that he feels without it

but a fresh comfort; renewing


because he continues his hunt thereafter

for his prey, his former self

while in comfort he knows he's hunted

by his hunter, his future self