A random poem that sprung to mind. I have tried to create a surreal feel to it, hope it shows!
Dream of the Hunter
Mock rabbit, mock rabbit
See how he runs?
Through the forest he trips and twists
Over whispered streams and crackling leaves.
For though this is all just a game,
It is very real to him.
Enter the Hunter:
Sleek, and brazen,
With barely a whisper to his name he sets off
Leaping through the air,
Feet kissing the ground.
A thundercrack; he emerges victorious.
Like a god he stands
The Hunter and the Hunted
united in this stance.
His victim lies at his feet,
Body broken like a bow.
And still I dream a dream again
of whispered streams, and secrets kept
locked beneath the frozen foothills
of that moonlit misty night.