Do you twist the iron

Greased hinges sharpend teeth

Pop and snap of rusted trap

Waiting in the grit and shit

To puncture flesh when tripped

I see you now for who you are

Hiding in seclusion and solitude

Perfectly prepared to ensnare

Why am I the prey

This is nothing but sport for you

Hackles raised senses heightened

Something in the surroundings is wrong

Fearful fury prickling and profound

Careful footsteps compressing foliage

Claws digging into loam

Rotting roots and musty mulch

Familiar scents mingle with foreign

Salt and synthetic

Something fake floods my nostrils

Do I freeze or flee

What direction do I turn

To avoid the spring loaded trap

I could go this way

Or I could go that

I must not hesitate long

Or else....

SNAP!