Death and The Hunter

A step and another into the silent battlefield that once was,

a hunter in the lookout for his prey, 

a silent struggle to greet death again,

a never ending curse of life and destiny, 

here and until the end of man and end of times.

Apologetically she looks at the hunter, 

the righteous hunter bound by a bond of word and blood, 

the word of dead, the blood of kin,

keeping him away from her cold sweet embrace.

A dance he asks for, from death, but much denied

staining the earth red for righteous needs,

the hunter looks for another prey,

to see her again and ask her for a dance and to be denied.