Hide! Im tracking the pace of fear, Your shivering hopes I hear, The prey is gone... The hunt is now! Prowling my sacred vow. My skin feels so colder now, But as I move on through the path Breaths short Im sinking down. Run! My senses behold the fear. The arrows of gold I hear, And as I am gone, I turn around... To find Im alone somehow. The quiver is empty now, But as I move on through the path Breaths short Im sinking down.
sinking, short, move, tracking, prowling