The Arrow Drawn

With my own demons to whether
Bright hell on summer's eve
The chance to hunt and hunted be
The glance of eyes through forestry

To turn my back would mean sure death
If faced full on, I'd end my days
Scant hunger drives me zombied, worried
Questing for a morsel of hope

A crumb of peace
A piece of love to capture me
And ever always hunted be