On The Prowl Poem by Randy McClave

The lion is on the prowl
As you hear his growl,
The hunter is ready to take his shot
When he has found the adversary he had sought.
The lion is the king of every beast
In the North, South, West and East,
And he is hungry and he is out stalking
As the lion is slowly walking.
The hunter walks into the brush
Suddenly there is a great hush,
Nothing can be seen or even heard
Not ever a solitude bird.
The lion is dangerously fierce
Into your skin its teeth will easily pierce,
It will unmercifully tear you body apart
Then it will dine on your very heart.
The lion just wants to conquer and kill
And he does so, with vigor and a thrill,
He is hunting and unmerciful on any day
The hunter did say.
The hunter is looking for his game
And the lion he says is doing the very same,
The lion is such a murderous and uncaring creature
Killing is his most prominent feature.
The lion is out their somewhere lurking
The hunter is hiding while smirking,
Soon he hopes to have the lions hide
Then he'll show it off with much glory and contentment and pride.
The boasting hunter is now quite
Soon he cries out, "It'll be his time to fight".
The hunter cries out, "victory, soon will be my glory"
"Ending a savagery will be my newest story".
Until the lion learns how to write
When he learns not to just growl and bite,
And being know and remember only for his hunger
Every story will always glorify the hunter.

Randy L. McClave