The Fox Poem by jacob mathews

The fox ran for his life,
a step ahead of death,
no respite in sight,
through the forest of sir aberneth

his leg wound gaping,
leaks a trail of blood,
the barks grow nearer,
hes filled with dread

over stones and dead wood,
and the clear water of greenwood brook,
the fox ran and ran,
desperate for a safe nook

with a bleeding leg, a dizzy head,
he failed to see the old oak's root,
he tripped and fell,
and closer got the brutes

the gods turned a blind eye,
the forest gave no cover,
lungs burning, eyes blurry,
he waits for it to be over

oh the sweetness of surrender,
the balm for all his pain,
death came barking and growling,
he never saw home again.