Hunting The Hunter
Moonlight shines on the lake,
The gentle ripples make it shimmer
in the eyes like slivers of silver,
Dancing on the unstill water surface.
In the chilly, late Autumn evening,
The cold wind blows across
Welcoming the winter
With it, stabbing icy daggers.
A lone stranger on the deserted road
Walks with a forced stoop,
To prevent the onslaught
Of the unkind wind on his harrowed face.
A shadow darts across in the dark
In a blur, where did it come from
And where did it disappear?
Swift of legs, silent on toes, hunting its prey
The birds are settled high in their cosy nests
Unable to grapple with
the vagaries of nature,
The chicks are under the wings of their parent birds
The gloom of the day has passed into the night
making it appear dark and sinister,
The bats dart from their cave
Of hiding, to catch anything edible to survive.
A staccato bark followed by a whiny yelp
breaks the deafening silence
of the night, there is someone
who wishes to remain unheard, unseen
A plan pays off, the enthusiastic bark was the signal
For the stranger to strike
In a lightning move the gleaming
Edge of the machete homes onto the target
The head flies, blood gushes out, and a life is taken
One more infiltrator bites the dust
The dog, silent as ever
Is back with its master happily wagging its tail
The forensic and Anti-terrorism squads arrive
for a thorough check
confirming the dead intruder was a
terrorist with a suicide vest, AK-47, and cocaine
Salute the soldiers whose job
is the riskiest of all,
they risk everything
To ensure that we, the citizens, live in peace
To pursue our goals and hobbies, and write poetry.
Copyright © MB Farookh | Year Posted 2023
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