The Unstoppable roll of dice…
That bird sitting on the branch of a tree was once a hunter
With the sharpest vision and the instinct to kill
Alas many moons ago when it had a steely will
Wasn’t he swift to make its move?
An epitome of strength and in the groove
But as they say time takes its toll
The stifles and strife do dent the body and soul
With age you grow strong, with age you lose it too
The swine that the time is, keeps rolling the dice
Some turns you cherish, some you despise
So is the fate of the hunter
Who sits on the same branch of the tree looking so frail
Weak of vision and no more with that instinct to kill
Alas with many moons passed, diminished the will
A pitiful stance and no more groove
The one who ones hunted, becomes the prey
Such is the fate of creatures all
Life is abundant with highs and lows and the final fall
The circle of life bends to time
That unstoppable roll of dice, by the swine
