The hunt now truly begins as my prey has been found,
I tracked it cross country to the wind swept beach.
Patiently I have crept with neither sight nor sound,
Reaching a zenith I once dreamed was out of reach.
Diseased slow and unaware it lumbers uncontrolled,
As I survey my surroundings to prepare for assault.
Once twas the subject of many great myths so told,
Now it leaves little for my honest eyes to exalt.
This decline surely carries the madness of denial,
Beyond the boils scars and leprosy that I can see.
Only a malignancy can incur such a fate sans trial,
Erasing my victory as regardless it ceases to be.
So with the burden of this sorrow I leave it behind,
Knowing that my hand cannot hasten the work of fate.
Yet like this beast of great measure who is blind,
I wonder whether or not my revelation was too late.