Hunters Pledge Poem by Wayne McCullough

I abide stoic resolution to immaculate taste.
A hunters quiet and patient gaze peering into twilight.
I scan the horizon from lofty perch for my prey.
The small game comes and goes from my vision as, fleeting as a breeze rustling through the trees.

One must accept nature, for we are what we are.
Some hunters settle for the small catch. I will not.
I know who and what I am. I am the hunter.
I am selective because it is my right. It is my way.

I hunt for blood, I hunt for pain.
I hunt for pleasure, I hunt for need.
I hunt for myself as I hunt for others.
I hunt for black and I hunt for blue.

I sit patiently, a dangerous creature lurking.
In the dark, biding my time.
For the small prize I will waste not my time.
Nothing less than majestic will do.