The Epic Chase

The lustful hounds they bide their time.
Waiting to pounce, wanting, yearning
They come for you!

I am the hunter's son, you are the dear.
And my footsteps, dancing in the dark
Wearily, resolutely trace your path!

But I see them already, skulking through the woods
Dark shadows outlined against backgrounds darker yet.
The movement of their limbs carry a deadly grace
And moon above revealing glistening teeth and claws,
Only I, they know, the epic scramble is about to take place.

They first linger, hunched, a collection of grotesque shapes
Lazily climbing over another to scan the valley, smell the air.
They see you now so heavy breathing becomes light breaths.

Next jerking, twitching muscles are unleashed upon the chase,
Snarls reach a crescendo, legs thump a beat against the earth
Adrenaline fuelled lungs gasp as I try to quicken my dance!

Should they catch you, should they succeed?
Will I lose my embodiment of love to these?
Should they be let, they'll tear at your sacred flesh,
They will rape you of that beauty, like others before
And they will torture you with visions before eating your soul!

I am the hunter's son, you are the dear.
And my footsteps, dancing in the dark
Are not nearly fast enough yet!

No longer prowling but chasing in the open valley,
These are the beasts, the shallow monsters of my dreams.
Moving so terribly fast but seeming to move so very slow
Their greedy and ravenous jaws dribble and drool!

And in my eyes it all begins to unfold, this epic scramble.
I see with both my eyes, my vain struggle, your pain.
As claw by claw and tooth by tooth smoothly sinks
Into that beautiful, virgin skin.