New sun veiled by shifting fog,
Trees and colors slice through mist.
A line of deer on hidden paths
Travels quickly through the wood.

Metal beasts roar to and fro,
Noisy, hurried, speeding on.
Twisted roads through fields and trees,
Painted roads of dirty stone.

Nature's beasts press further on,
Suddenly, the trail is lost.
Pavement guards the way ahead,
Fearful now, the deer must cross.

Faster fly the metal steeds,
Carelessly, they thunder by.
One of them holds Doom inside,
Soon, a fleeting soul will die.

All the deer have crossed but one,
Nervously, one hesitates.
Slowly steps on dirty stone
Almost crossed, one meets with Fate.

Round the bend the engine howls,
One deer freezes, poised to fly.
A cry of death, then mangled flesh,
The noble beast is tossed aside.

Curses, screams, the tires spin,
Dented metal limps away.
Frightened deer melt into mist,
Only instincts, safe for now.

Silent, alone, the broken one
Lies shredded, blood on dirty stone.
No use, no meaning, only death
The morning is a quiet tomb.

New sun veiled by shifting fog,
Trees and colors slice through mist.
A line of deer on hidden paths
Travels quickly, missing one.