The Hunter and the Hunted

Lord Fox, do you count the cost
Of all the prey you kill?
For good or ill, you are apt to destroy,
Much more than you really need.
Why raze a flock of poultry,
When a single bird will suffice,
On which your voracious appetite might feed.

So by and by, comes a hue and cry.
Chased by hunters who wish to see you bleed.
In fact they want to see you die.
Torn apart, rip out your savage heart,
On which their baying hounds might feed.
Now tell me truly who is the beast
At this bloody, brutal, barbaric feast?

Author's note; Some thoughts on fox hunting. Are both the fox and the hunter driven by their true natural instincts?

Tags: sad, fear,