Crouching in the wild grasses,
Waiting for the moment.
Keeping its breath in rhythm to give no hints
The tiger awaits ‘The Kill’.
Stealthily it stocks the singled victim.
Making all moves with care,
For it knows there is no way it can return empty handed to its lair.
Seconds become minutes and minutes might be hours,
The bright striped velvet won’t just let it all pass.
The frail little prey too engrossed in his meal,
Makes the timing perfect for ‘The Kill’
One pounce and the teeth bury in the flesh so deep,
The red blood oozes out and so does the life quietly seeps
The story doesn’t end here, neither does the hunt
For now the tiger has to face the rivals and their brunt
It never gives up the grit, cos it takes a lot for a jungle to be ruled
The boundaries are defined and no one ever dares
To break the unwritten rules and make attempts to share
A master of the hunt, it has a life not so easy
Just to make the perfect Kill keeps him all so busy
It so majestic despite all aggression and rage
But all we care to do is lock him up in a cage
We hate to be ruled; the superiority is dear
Our acts though make the whole jungle mock at our fear
We can’t possess the instinct so we choose to decline
The rules of nature and blame the feline
Its victory is real and so is its Kill
We just happen to derive some guilty pleasures and boast about the thrill…!!!!!