The Hunter Belly to the floor, I scan at the horizon, shimmering in the distance. The wind screw through the dry savanna grass, want a mow through harvest The reflection of my stretch glistens in the sun. And within my sights lies my prey A beast, a amicable lion, an incredible catch Hugging the ground I huddle ever so closer, eluding its senses. And from within my belt I draw a fresh cartridge and silently drop away it into place, alike a nipper through flesh With the staring(a) patience of a poised lion I gaze down my glassy sight And wait for a liberal view. Patience, Patience, Patience, Then, unaware of the hunter that stalks him, He strides out from beneath his follow tree, solely pauses, as if to stop and speak out. Swiftly I come up 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 every(prenominal) time. It was quick, It was clean, It was sharp, It was, The perfect pho to By Nick Lilleyman Thx for commenting man. Its all in the twist in the demolition :D (For all those........

throng out there, the hunter is a photographer lol.) Its a unassailable rime with well behaved use of words, but i tangle that this poem didnt really flow really well, it kinda sounded equal stop-starting but anyways good work This is a genuinely good poem. The metaphors that are used are quite excellent. However, still though it i s a free verse poem, I do think that it shou! ld still flow similarly to a poem that rhymes. obedient effort though. I really enjoyed it. Reminds me of the story I submitted called demonstrate You! Its got a twist like that, if you ever bit it out. Like I said, I really liked it. spacious wrinkle! If you want to get a full essay, stray it on our website:
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