The Rabbit

I’m running through the woods & the time keeps passing

The gentle voice roaring behind me. 

But I don’t trust the words coming from its mouth,

So I keep on towards the south.

The air becomes thick, my panting is heavy.

Still, the voice sings softly & gently.

I refuse to give in & give it power—

All seems fine until the rain begins to shower.

I slip & inevitably trip,

Coming down with a tick, tick, tick.

I’m no longer where I was before;

This place is the most wondrous moor.

Touching the grass & the hum of the bees,

I’ve found myself breathing the lemongrass breeze.

A song of earth, wind, & fire

No longer drowned in the echoes of a liar.

A rose bush with plenty of thorns,

An anthill with a fallen robin egg.

I rise above to climb atop a tree;

That’s when I notice the hornets beside me.

I come crashing down just as I did before,

Back to the rain & the place I was at war.

I hear my voice humming softly as I go through the trapdoor.

I trudge back north, 

reciting my folklore.