Runners
Taking inspiration from "The Charge of the Light Brigade", a poem that experiments with rhythm and form and is far from the glory invoked by Tennyson's
Pounding feet across the fields,
Heartbeat's tension's big reveal,
In pursuit of our nightly meal,
Match our quarry pace for pace!
They're running!
We must chase!
*
Fearful scent pervades the air
Barbs of wire catching hair
Snagging ragged underwear,
Match our quarry pace for pace!
They're running!
We must chase!
*
Over hill and down in dale,
Pursuing them, the weary pale:
Whooping at their frightened wail!
Match our quarry pace for pace!
They're running!
We must chase!
*
Gradual weakening starts to show
Plodding, stumbling, getting slow
No time 'til we bring them low...
Match our quarry pace for pace!
They're flagging!
We must chase!
*
Panting, breaths are coming fast
Harder, harder, we must last
Before we taste our dark repast.
Match our quarry pace for pace!
They're failing!
We must chase!
*
Drooling, snarling, getting close,
Their fright assaults the eager nose.
Soon, they'll lie in Death's repose.
Matching our quarry pace for pace.
They're failing!
End the chase.
*
Sumptuous flesh pricked by fang
Air filled with metallic tang
Nothing like the taste of man.
We've caught our quarry, now outpaced.
They failed. We won.
Hunt complete.
*
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.