Hooves, hooves, thunder in the night.
Body aching throat screaming can't think can't think -
Darkness, blackness, overtaking her sight.
Branches slap at her outstretched hands blood trickles down her face -
Sudden silence - sudden standstill. Not a whisper stirs the air.
Can't stop can't stop have to run have to run -
Lonely in the hills, until she feels the hidden fear.
Don't have much time don't have much time -
The horse dances and she reins it in; calms it with a pat.
SO CLOSE NOW SO CLOSE -
The rider thought she was the hunter - she was wrong about that.
Too late.
