Musing on Many Things

And through the forest the hunter stalked
His prey a simple forest fowl. He moves his feet with silence
And his cunning steps to not belay the locked
Fate of the chosen bird. Feathers he finds strewn in defiance.
And the wolf howls in the distance crying for truth
Never can all be seen even by the Hunter. Always will leaves
And dark foilage hide the chosen bird. Coming for the proof

Dark are my thoughts on this dark winters eve.
With the bushs and brambles cold crackling
For many fallen and soon will fall in His endless campaign

My winters sorrows sought I to relieve
As the last of autumn leaves head for the ground tackling
For many fallen and soon will fall in His endless name

Experience has taught me that to anything achieve
Far off in the woods an old gray witch is cackling
For many have fallen and soon will fall in His endless game.

A simple action saves the day. The plan that I just now concieved.
It will end the armies bloody crimson spackiling.
For many have fallen and no more will fall in His now fallen reign.