Fox one, fire in the hole, bury those gun shots deeply in your soul. Release now we have you under our control.
Fox run, the hunters in pursuit, killing all the ‘low hanging fruits’, gone now? Here’s a gag across your mouth to keep you mute.
Fox down, to much incoming, can’t be stopped, but if I survive those volley of psyche bullets you shot, it will never be forgot.
Fox escaped, slipped through the nights cracks, running half naked in empty fields, knowledge lent, me a chance to break your seals.
Fox sleeps, in forest embrace, soft moss and dirty ditch, what a fraught battle we pitch, as my wounds I begin to stitch.
One bullet, two … Three … … Four and all the more. Licking my scars forever more.
D March 2017