Counting

The hunter becomes hunted,
The damage becomes affronted,
The will to be stunted,
The will that was blunted,
The wish that was funded.

The running fills the joy,
The conversations with no ploy,
The boy who’s no longer a toy,
The cripple that ripped the decoy,
The ending to destroy,
The finale to enjoy.

The catch that seizes the broken,
The leave that was never spoken,
The victory turned the token,
The strong made of oaken,
The begging to be chosen,
The moment that was stolen.

The time that filled the deepness,
The danger fuelled by the steepness,
The anger at the cheapness,
The hate towards the weakness,
The time to become speechless,
The choice to become sleepless.

The words that took out the secret,
The speaking that was frequent,
The never-ending need for a sequent,
The need to become decent.

The choices that were never equal,
The look from that eagle,
The fear of your evil,
The success that was never legal,
The words that were too lethal,
The dream that dies too peaceful,
That nightmare risen by the people.

The one, two, and three…
The number that you will never be,
The key that will never flee,
The flea that was always be free,
The sea that will never agree,
The fish that has a degree,
The whale that you wish to see.