Silent whispers, silent cries
Bleeding blades, rolling eyes
Gnashing fangs, clutching claws
Quivering hunters, dropping jaws
Behind, dried leaves crash
Heads turn in a flash
Whirling wind, monster approaches
The air smells of dead roaches
One, two, three men down
Twelve faces left to frown
Fuming hunters, blood boils
Triggered gun recoils
The night grows calm, not a single sound
Hearts beat fast, danger profound
Noise heard, bullets shot again
The beast roars in pain
The monster falls, broken prides
Hunters approach in cautious strides
Fallen beast sighted, faces beam with smiles
Quick the monster rises, bodies fall in piles.
About the Author
