“The Chase” by Christina Persaud

I run through the woods, fearing for my life. 

Legs that are pumping, 

Propelled by my strife.

I dip below branches, dirt meeting boots.

I jib and I jab, 

Dodging pesky tree roots. 

I hear them coming,

Those hollers and those whoops.

My blood is red boiling,

Lost track of the loops.

In this vast forest,

I cannot quite see,

Why they are coming,

So hungry for me? 

Then, I trip and fall,

Down a ravine so deep. 

Jagged rocks send me, 

Push onward, I keep, 

My life ever-going,

My hope never sleep. 

I see you, my Alma, 

My love and my dream.

They are still coming, 

From beyond the wild stream.  

I smell lies and cunning, 

I fear this high beam.

What am I doing? 

From heights I dare leap. 

Down, at the bottom, 

The dogs have found sheep. 

I beg and I bleat,

But no one will hear. 

Blood on their tongues, 

Death misting air.