Don't play with it

When wolves gather close,
preparing for their next attack,
You must stay quiet...

So you find yourself holding your breath,
till your body screams at you for oxygen...
You then despite the distress let the air out
With tight control,
despite your body's cries...
let it out little by little,
to avoid the sudden "whoosh"
And deep intake "GASP"
sound.

So you sink deeper under the covers,
Like it means something,
Like a child,
Wishing that when you finish praying
over and over and over
It will make a difference.
That there is no impending doom
Looming around...

I open my eyes to the darkness that surrounds,
I could still hear the voices,
It hasn't gone away...
And I start to cry,
Not because this could end badly for me if I say something...
But because I feel helpless,
And uncertain of the magnitude of consequence,
If I do...

So at 5 in the morning.
You camp out in your covers,
Praying for the best,
Knowing the worst....
And wait.

The time before the kill,
And wait...