We Are the Prey

We are the prey. Death is the ruthless hunter.
Time, our haven. Life, our hiding ground.
But we know that the omniscient pursuer
With lethal cunning will track us down.

In our anguish we manufacture Time,
Hoping in vain that with ambition, wealth,
Work, pleasure, love or polishing a rhyme,
We can frustrate the slyness and the stealth

Of the relentless hunter with the skull.
This game of hide and seek is root of fear,
A self-deceiving ploy to block the fall

And the despair of the slave caught in the unreal.
The prey enjoys in an instant a lifetime
Facing the hunter in the act of dying!
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