chased

I am chased,

Breathless,

Running for my life.

My chest burns and

My legs ache

But I must keep moving.

I have no choice, I can’t stop.

I can’t stop.

I can’t stop.

I want to stop but I can’t stop.

Oh God, I must keep moving.

I must keep moving.

I must keep moving for

Rest means death.

Rest means death.

Rest means death, and

There is no rest for the wicked, and

Death comes on swift wings, and

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I must keep moving!

I must!

I can’t stop now – not now.

No, not now.

No, no, not now.

But soon.

But not now.

Soon.

Not now.

Soon.

Soon I will rest my aching legs and

Soothe my burning chest and

Gaze out at the fields of wheat

Swaying gently in the breeze

Under the pale light of the harvest moon.

But not now.

No, not now.

Now I must keep moving,

For I am chased,

Breathless,

Running for my life.