My Hunter Poem by Johnny Nathan Botelho

As I sit laying waiting
I welcome my hunter
as we are old friends.
I will not hear his aproach,
yet i will know when he's near,
I've seen him before,
I've listened to the wisdom he leaves
My breath stops hiding, and shows its form
the birds grow silent and when
I strain my ears i can hear the
wispers of the hunted
they tell me to run
they tell me to hide
they tell me to get away
I will not run though
he took me long ago
he took my mind, he's
simply come back for the rest,
I am damaged beyond repair and he is my hunter