Running

And Im still running after all these years
Legs ready to buckle, eyes full of tears

I have no destination, yet I keep up the pace
No finish line to speak of, not trying to win a race

Its fear that drives me to keep pressing ahead
Couldn't defeat my pursuer so instead I fled

A game of cat and mouse that I forever play
Its got my scent and tracks me like a hunter does its prey

Just out of sight but close enough that I'm aware
One misstep and it will trap me in its snare

Can I keep on going or should I turn and fight?
How can I choose when they both feel right?