The Hunt For Love

Weighed down by my weapons, but more by my thoughts,
circling chaotically around damage my enemy had wrought.
I was tooled up and psyched up; prepared for this battle primeval.
Jangling and clanking, I marched down to the park,
knowing this was often where he picked his next mark,
and that’s where I met again this eldest, and darkest, of evils.

I grabbed for his bow and broke it in two,
dropped it, lunged for the abomination who
grabbed, turned and bent, landing me flat on my back.
Twisting as the misanthrope tried to stamp on my head,
I jumped up, feinted left; a move that misled
The Adversary long enough for me to get back on attack.

Laying him low with a single blow,
I put the boot in and, oh, I let him know
“That’s for the apathy, the anxiety, for the lack of appetite.”
I kicked him and kicked him, again and again
until he was curled up like a baby, and then
“That’s for forcing me to lay awake at night.”

He grabbed my foot as I aimed a kick to the jaw,
bit my leg, then twisting, put me back on the floor.
Then with outstretched arms he reached out to mangle me.
A quick loop of cheese wire. My enemy was caught.
He’d put up a good fight but it had all come to naught,
as I pivoted back on top and started to strangle with glee.

My hands round his neck, I started to squeeze.
Needing only to tighten to kill him with ease.
But suddenly he relaxed, lying there as my gaze caught his eyes.
Lost in their depths I felt my anger subside,
my stranglehold loosen, my blood pressure slide.
I found I just couldn’t do it, which came as quite the surprise.

So, I stood up and, with a couple of twists,
removed the cheese wire that bit into his wrists.
Then I extended my hand and helped him up off the floor.
He reached for his back and a pistol crossbow
of which I was unaware and as I turned to go
he calmly took his revenge and shot me once more.

And now I ponder as I lay awake at night
that, given one more chance, whether I might
be able, this time, to finish the job. I could, I’m positive.
And although some might choose to call me naive
there’s just one thing that I still can’t believe:
That I had love within my grasp and yet still I let it live.

Ruminate

Comments that don't add to the conversation, may be ridiculed, removed, or revised to say just about anything!

Name*
Email*
Website