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THE HUNTSMAN



The Huntsman carries a two-headed axe
As he stalks through the darkened forest,
Hunting for a very special creature
Hoping to send it to eternal rest.

He hunts big game of all descriptions
But his favourite quarry is human,
He loves to chase them through the woods
His battleaxe swinging at his command.

Once he catches up and kills them
He beheads them with one swing of his axe,
Leaving the headless corpse behind
He only needs to take the severed head back.

Back to his death-riddled wooden cabin
Where he mounts his trophy on the wall,
A bloody monument to his evil
A treasure of the latest victim to fall.

In the forest not far from his cabin
Lies the bodies of all the dead,
Some now reduced to skeletons
Since all he ever needs is the head.

The Huntsman has no concept of morals
No human sense of right and wrong,
He hunts and kills just for pleasure
And will keep stalking all night long.

By day he chops up wood for burning
Or hunts down wood creatures to eat,
But in the night he hunts his own species
Killing every stranger that he meets.

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

The Huntsman carries a two-headed axe As he stalks through the darkened forest, Hunting for a very special creature Hoping to send it to eternal rest.

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Written on August 06, 2021

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on September 04, 2021

1:02 min read
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Phil Roberts

I am 64 and loves cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

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    "THE HUNTSMAN" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 22 Oct. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/108518/the-huntsman>.

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