The Hunter Belly to the floor, I glance at the horizon, shimmering in the distance. The wind screw through the dry savanna grass, equivalent a mow through harvest The reflection of my area glistens in the sun. And within my sights lies my prey A beast, a genial lion, an incredible catch Hugging the ground I kowtow ever so closer, eluding its senses. And from within my belt I draw a fresh cartridge and silently mistake it into place, like a nipper through flesh With the unceasing patience of a poised lion I gaze down my glassy sight And wait for a sound view. Patience, Patience, Patience, Then, unaware of the hunter that stalks him, He strides out from beneath his tail tree, solely pauses, as if to stop and sound off. Swiftly I chasten my aim, until the whirl is clean Now, in complete(a) position and with my prey poised, I blackjack the trigger realising a shot to freeze all(a) time. It was quick, It was clean, It was sharp, It was, The perfect photo By Nick Lill eyman Thx for commenting man. Its all in the twist in the demolition :D (For all those........
state out there, the hunter is a photographer lol.) Its a entire rime with pricey use of words, but i snarl that this poem didnt really flow really well, it kinda sounded like stop-starting but anyways good work This is a genuinely good poem. The metaphors that are used are quite excellent. However, still though it is a free verse poem, I do think that it s hould still flow similarly to a poem that rh! ymes. favourable effort though. I really enjoyed it. Reminds me of the story I submitted called implant You! Its got a twist like that, if you ever bit it out. Like I said, I really liked it. spacious line! If you want to get a full essay, stray it on our website:
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