December Skies

I see you, hunter in your tree
I merely implore. Please. please.
Do not shoot, nor strike
I do not wish to feel the bullet bite

You listened at the sound that my hooves made
Now listen to my voice, my plea and obey
Do not shoot! do not kill!
This is my cry, my will!

My dad will miss me and my mom will cry
They told me not to go. I don't want to die.
Please let me go to live another day.
Do not leave me here to decay.

I wish to live a long, long life
Full and free without strife.
I wish to find a beautiful hind
A doe grazing in field, grass lined

I wish to run free, never dead.
Instead of pleading I should have fled,
But now I face my demise,
Under these december skies.