King Of Survivors

Not all men are hunters, for I do my own.

I become one with what I hunt.

I walk the land with a silence under my

feet.

So they do not hear me, and retreat.

Beside me walks my friend.

I feel safe from harm when he is by my

side.

My commands he does abide.

He was an orphan, left to die. I found

him lying there all alone.

I picked him up and held him next to my

heart. I could hear him give a cry.

Took him home and nursed him to health.

Since then he has remained by my side.

I call him King of Survivors.

For he recovered so fast.

We hunt and play, swim and fish.

Star gaze by the fire pit, and soon we eat

our catch.

He is my friend, my companion.

He taught me things of life, and the joy

of living.

He taught me to hunt my pry and to walk

in silence.

Taught me how to love again. After I losing

my family.

He taught me to live again, not to give up on

life, as I almost did.

Best Friends until the end.

Just me and King, in our special place in the

woods.

Being what we are, survivors, of our kind.

Written By:

                     Donna Le

Copyright2000-2001

Designed By: Midibass Creations.