The Hunt
On a voyage across the valleys, rivers and trees
Where weakness only spells the end, a death in a freeze
On these paths there is no looking away
The very act can be the last one that will lead you astray
So be bold, dear friend
For the world hides in itself moments of betrayal
Be strong, my brother
For in you there is a fire passed down for millenia
Now around a stove to stay warm and nourish ourselves
The air is cold and the caught meat is still tender
Another day in this frigid world that calls on for our purpose
Where one’s life hails us to give itself some value
In an otherwise desolate wilderness
Michael Aquilina 12.09.2023