One quiet night, as a Hunter slept,
A dream of a wood, in his mind crept.
Wherein dwelled the king of the wild,
No, not a lion, but a wolf reviled.
Shivering in sleep as he writhed in its lair,
Himself shred, he watched in despair.
When he awoke the following morn,
Sweating all over, woebegone.
His damaged courage in order to mend,
He resolved to put the wolf to end.
His family he bid farewell, with sorrow,
And marched a forth with bow and arrow.
He walked along in sunshine and rain,
Seeking the wolf for scores in vain.
So far from home, journeyed had he,
He knew his family, he’ll never see.
And though the wolf was nowhere found,
By his resolve, the Hunter was bound.
And finally the Hunter could walk no more,
For he lay dying on the ocean’s shore.
As he acknowledged his final breath,
Welcoming the cold embrace of death.
He said to himself, with great disdain,
‘The wolf indeed, proved my bane’.
-Kartik Shastry
