Red Stag At Bay

Standing forlorn, alone hidden in a thicket Battled, bloody, weary, defeated for harem By younger stag, new monarch of the Glen. He waits for wounds to heal to fight again Reclaiming his dominance and crown Bringing the young pretender down Chasing him from the herd into solitary exile. Away in the distance hunting wolves howl Stag lifts his head, eyes wide with fear Knowing they have found his scent Smelt the blood and are coming for the kill. Stepping forward to meet them, antlers lowered He prepares to fight his last battle.