The Hunted Rabbit

Has less to lose than its predator.

Is far more naked than its clothed.

And cruel to pursuit,

Filled with virile resistance,

Still runs.

While the apex with desperate hands,

Advances by chance alone.

Temptation blistering at the mouth,

Succumbed to natural instinct

As maternal as the hunt.

The rabbit was designed for the kill,

Whether by this hunter or another.

And like any other fox,

Addicted to the grip of his own canines,

Fixated at the calf of the bunny,

Shows reverence to this ordained fate

With ill pleasures—

But who weeps more properly than that fox?

Certainly not that rabbit

Who, keen not to taste of flesh,

Was always destined for those with appetite

Far more devious than her own.

But by some force or another she flees,

Admitting her own flavor.

And that hunter, that fox, that mournful spirit

Gives chase.

I don’t know why I wrote this poem after watching that Netflix movie about Ted Bundy. Anyway, Zac Efron did really well. I love his more serious roles.

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