High above the tree line, I feel his presence.
I ready my snare, for the prize I seek is near.
However, I can't ignore the fear.
My head grows tired, and my legs weak.
I press on, for the journey is not for the meek.
The beast is wounded, I can see its tracks.
But it continues to travel, away from the packs.
Into the high country, I continue to travel.
Through waves of earth, sand, and gravel.
Against me, my obstacles and challenges stack.
And I wonder, if I will ever get my heart back.
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