I am ready for my last fight today,
Khaki shadows cutting down the way.
There’s a widow – wailing.
Blood – trailing.
Cattle – mauled,
So the army and the hunters were called.
When they beat the brush all night,
They shoot everything in sight.
When the stars are glinting off of the guns-
What kind of monster turns and runs?

I don’t know what they wanted from me
I’m in no shape to hunt –
Can’t they see?
Claws blasted down to a stub.
Hunters laughing at the corpse of a cub.
No morals growing at the end of a vine,
Every hero needs a villain,
I’ve found mine.

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