Michael Chavinda - The Hunter

Sharpened sword, the prey is set.
The goal is clear and must be met.
It is the chase and not the kill
That soothes the soul and drives the will.
To hold a a breathing carcass. While
It slowly dies...I slowly smile,
Rejoicing how I caught my own
Meat, and now I hear it moan.
The blood, the fear, control and pain
Push my will to hunt again.
Run! Resist! Resist! Resist!
And then I will persist-persist!
When it's done, and still you cry,
I taste success and watch you lie.

Michael Chavinda

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hunter-26/