Rabbits Without Peace.

With the sun drooping down into the earth,
A cocked ear appears among the dark green field,
Down goes its body, like a bushranger being shot,
The barbaric snare got the best of them.

My hands were quick to find her body
Half wrangled and panicked, her eyes shot back
A glare of Fear, as black as the depth of my heart,
White knuckles became unclenched,
Shivers thrown down my back
" Pleading Looks" led me to do this-
Grip the air and not the hare,
Now became time to shrug the picture away
But we all still know,
Peace is not yet...