Reality is huntsman waiting on the sidelines for its next kill
We are its prey
Trying to escape an inevitable death
Fugitives running great distances
To flee from reality's grasp
He hunts for pleasure
Playing a game where we are unaware of our roles
One moment we are his playmates
And the next his opponents
Stuck in a game where he is the player, judge and referee
He is not afraid to play dirty
He is merciless
His greatest pleasure are targeting the weak and hearing their screaming pleads
We can run away or hide
But no matter what we cant escape the reality of our lives
Only to end in front of the very thing we ran from
Finding ourselves in a circumstance that will define our lives
We are left with one question
Flight or fight?
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