A Repentance Through Elk and Hound, an original poem

The dark of the path ahead

Snow as pale as the Night is dark

The hitch in your breath to go unheard

Hope of life flown away on the wings of a lark 

Unyielding eyes bare your soul to open air

The feverish need to escape your sin

Which way to the beast's lair?

Which way to salvation within?

The snap of twigs beneath hurried feet

The slow, steady patter of paws

To be caught is defeat

But the body most often falls to the claws

Run run to escape the breath on your neck

To dally is to succumb 

The distant wail of the Elk 

The scratches from branches, numb

The hastening of steps

Full of rising fear 

Harsh pants of your breaths

To know the threat of death is near

The lengths you go to not answer for your crime

The denial of your transgressions with nothing but your imagination

Maybe a penny for your thoughts, but they are not worth a dime

The disgusting lack of repentance and contrition

Danger inside your mind as crippling as out

The slick slide of leaves beneath your slipping feet

The desperate crawl, the need to shout 

As the teeth of the grim sink into soft meat

The smell of fur and velvet 

The call of the elk mocking your fibs

The stench of deep regret 

The agony of feeling antlers in your ribs

The blood pumping, loud in your ears

The teeth gnashing and horrible sounds of the tear

The pain seeming to last years

The jolt as the elk begins to rear 

The crack of impact 

The slide of blood-loosened antlers

Pride and walls far from intact 

The final release of desperation and fear

Salvation awaits in the trees distant

The incarnation of internal evil in antlers so sharp and a snapping maw 

But the weight of your sins is insistent 

And you will be laid claim by the Ten-fold law