Mez writes about the fear of death and the wish to stay in charge of his own life until it comes. The opening image is blunt: time stalks a person the way a predator hunts prey, patient and always close behind. The speaker doesn't try to escape this. He asks only that when his time arrives, he be allowed to go in peace, and that until then he be left to live as he likes.
The third stanza adds a note of frustration. Other people seem to treat his future as a target, as if they can decide whether he will live or die. The speaker pushes back against that, wanting the question of his own ending to belong to him.
The last stanza is the most honest. He admits the fear is too big to put into words, yet it lives in both his heart and his head. The mood is uneasy and tense, but also defiant, a quiet plea for freedom and dignity against something he can't stop.