Wait Too Long and the Tides Turn

His prey is stunned; he’s on the ropes,

Yet his reaction was too slow;

He waited but needed to go.

Though graceful as the antelopes, 

A sloth-like choice dash all his hopes.

Move the attack from here to there,

Finish the fight, don’t stop and stare.

Opposition starts to come back;

Instead of red, he’ll soon see black.

Some don’t possess a killer’s flair.

Prompted from Ronovan Writes Decima Poetry Challenge Prompt at: https://ronovanwrites.com/2021/07/07/ronovan-writes-decima-poetry-challenge-prompt-no-65-go-in-the-b-rhyme-line/.

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