Hunting Ground

I prowled the forest grounds alone,
In search of meat and hearty bone,
With mercy gone and out of sight,
A thirst within to hunt and fight,

I scored a bear of mighty pelt,
A twelve-point buck of grace and svelte,
A lynx who dared to stalk my stride—
And each one fell before my pride,

I made my camp and got my logs,
To ward away the midnight fogs,
Horizon bled the night and day,
And sunlight's safety slipped away,

I lay alert and listening,
The crescent moon was glistening,
The shadows seemed alive with fear,
With something creeping ever near,

I fed the flames—they caught a shine,
A feral stare more wild than mine,
My blade in hand brought back my nerve—
Its calming crescent cutting curve,

I watched until arriving dawn—
By then, the hidden threat had gone,
And with it went my beast awards,
Those trophies from the lords of lords,

I tracked it back from whence it came,
So weary of its stranger game,
The prints were of a common man—
To fell this prey would take no plan,

I found its lair inside a cave,
A place that others dared not brave,
On walls he'd painted broken dreams,
With meat and teeth and hair and screams,

I saw my quarry only then—
A monstrous thing beyond my ken,
Whose tongue was longer than the night—
Whose maw was dark as moon was bright,

I trembled there, so petrified,
It closed the gap in just one stride—
It wore my pelt, my antler prize,
A human's feet, and lynx's eyes.