Psyche of a Deer

Psyche of a Deer

Little fretful deer
What is it that you fear?
Fear of death or of fear itself,
Fleeing before the question can be asked.

Trees so thick and tall,
You prance lightly through them all.
Far away from what you hold dear
Because of fear.

Moments of peace come as fields of grass,
Ears pricked for any danger
Ready to spring at the twitch of a hoof
Away from a passing stranger.

Come to me, my friend,
For I shall bring you no harm.
And yet my cry goes unanswered
As you flee into another dawn.

Is it night you fear?
All the hoots and creaks when all should be still,
Ah, but that is incorrect,
For you run faster in the light.

Is it others that you fear?
Fear of attack and wounds.
But you can drink with your pursuers
As with me you would.

Finding fear is much a hassle
So then I will pursue.
If I have to hunt you and tackle you down,
Then by all means I should.

Tell me, tell me, tell me,
Why do you cower so?
I reach so close and you pull away
Leaving me confused and lost.

You step lighter still
I only observe you now.
But you act as if everything will bite
When there is only a few.

Finally a challenger approaches,
One you cannot face,
One you cannot escape,
And yet you still try.

The predator has you within his hold
Letting you run around his stage.
And though you might think he might let you go,
He is loading his weapon and checking the gauge.

He aims, he strikes,
You fall without understanding why.
He comes to your side, knowing he has won
And you see the whole truth in his eyes.

As you fade he sees you for what you are:
Full of doubt and of distorted reality.
He does not give you the mercy most deserve
And he goes away.

He leaves you there, after all that trouble,
Because you are not a worthy prize.
Only mother nature gives you what mercy is given to all,
By taking you back into the whole.

You have feared
And that fear be just
But you let it take over
And now you are dust.