Poetry

The wolf lays itself
in wait
For its next
prey. 
He lays in all of us
waiting
For that tiny
trigger
To manifest itself
in form.
 
When that Lust for
the hunt clouded our minds
Blood covers our
eyes.
The scent of the
preys fluttered into the air.
All our  muscles tighten up to the game.
 
The chase has
began 
Each new chase is a
new puzzle.
Where every second
counts,
In this game to the
to death
Where the hunter and
the hunted can switch roles in  seconds
 
Patience is the main
theme of the game.
It is played in the
mind.
To outwit the preys
or the  predators
For survival.
 
The curse of the
chase will rendered you lonely.
It is difficult to
have a relationship.
As the game will
always become part of our lives.
The scale of balance
between  duty and family is unstable.
The lust for the
hunt will always manifest itself.