I had to listen to it.
I ran to see what was happening,
but I was too late.
I wasn’t there to protect him.
Mumbling roars crept through
the winding rooms of the jungle.
Stomping footsteps
shook every tree,
as if a creature was storming through.
There was a thump as his body hit,
crash, bang! against a wall.
Cornered by the beast,
the vulnerable boy stood.
Screams of disapproval, and, of
disappointment,
Seeped through the soil’s skin.
The animal was angry;
the boy was
not going to win.
Heart racing, my pulse pounding
beneath my skin.
Eyes and ears wide open,
taking everything in.
Legs running,
but where?
I did not know.
It was the sounds that led me,
to the war I sought.
A tourist stopped me,
and warned me in distress
but the boy was still trapped there.
The beast was
not at rest.
Standing dead still,
I saw,
mayhem,
chaos.
The beast had pounced,
what I found was just
remains.
I had to listen to it.
I ran to see what was happening.
But I was too late.
I wasn’t there to protect him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem