He isn’t just any man,
Skillfully, he hunted not just on animals but on life’s field
As he knelt down and carefully wiped the dust off his bow and placed in a traditional neatly way his arrows, allowing each to lie straight by his side.
Headed to the east
I called it “A DESTINATION”
Treaded by the brave of heart and mind.
Undaunted, he hunted for wild preys,
Carefully and silently he used his bare feet to pave a way in the thick bush covered with life’s challenges (grasses).
Slipping through trees, he does it all with ease
His eyes look lonely, but his moves speak otherwise,
His bow cries “old age” but a light stroke on it says ” old but active”
He looks empty from the outside, but the inside is filled with a strong will to provide.
You can tell by the hair on his skin that life almost played a fast one on him, but just like the determined, He said no,
Focused and determined he looked closely at were the noise comes,
Obviously, the hunted are aware of his presence, and it sure frightens them.
Keeping his prey in sight,
He draws his bow and shoots directly at a spot
A loud cry yells, and hastily he runs over and bravely tears his prey using the watchword.
He might be a coward in another’s field, but in his arena
Where even the wildest fret with fright,
The brave run for their lives,
And the clever come out as fools
He is the king of the jungle,
He is king of his own world.