Deer god
Late they showed for services
The scent of doe urine lingering
Sitting toward the rear to themselves
Mouthing along with the singing
The day they failed to attend
We chalked it up to opening season
Leading up with growing anticipation
In their heart to the deer secretly bowing
When the season drew along
And word of kills came drifting in
It was clear they were finally open
In the worshipping of the venison.
So in their true to their desire
Their deer love somehow inspires
In our feigned love for our Lamb
gun ho in our own blinds found.
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