Your conscience.
The beast lets out a mighty roar that shakes
the heavens and then, it dies.
It was not needed here.
The orange living essence of the wild,
painted over with black bars.
Moulded to the form of a great feline,
ivory sabres and amber in its sights.
Against its soft fur,
you’ve come prepared.
That vibrant wild growth of vicious beauty,
the only thing it fears is
in the static barrel of your gun.
A shot means death.
Its roars rouse panic… White stillness…
There’s nothing more to it.
You shoot.
You shoot-
There’s nothing more to it.
Its roars rouse panic, white stillness.
A shot, means death
in the static. Barrel of your gun-
The only thing ‘it’ fears is
that vibrant wild growth of vicious beauty.
You’ve come prepared.
Against its soft fur-
Ivory sabres, and amber in ‘its’ sights
moulded-to the form of a great feline
painted over. With (black) bars,
the orange, living, essence of the wild.
It was not needed. Here,
the heavens. And then, it dies.
The beast lets out a mighty roar that shakes
your conscience.
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