Smoldering in the shadow,
Even the prey fears a hello
From a beak waiting to pierce.
A blind rodent sees he is fierce.
All that turns is his head.
Watching, always watching, his to be bread.
Preparing his tendons to plunge
Into such decadency, he tenses to lunge.
The hunted hears a flap,
But before it squeaks, his jaws snap.
Everything has gone awry,
But the hunter refuses to say sorry.
“Apologize,” it daunts.
“Realize, my best haunts,
As lofty as the lightning,
Are where I am always watching.”
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