I crouch down in the tall grass In the distance There sits a doe It's so close It feels like I could reach out to touch it I knock my arrow I see the moonlight dance around the Grass surrounding the doe I draw the string Laying the doe in my sights I inhale and prepare to lose the arrow The doe turns it's head toward me As it rises my eyes wander towards its hooves There sits a faun As I look up the doe seems to be staring through me Eyes full of what I can only assume is fear I aim towards the dirt Letting the arrow loose to fly If you could call it that