The Winner of September: Animal

Done By: Newton Tanskul

Of predators, prey and family.
Their vision narrowly limited to three groups.
They stalk the world and its inhabitants,
Feasting upon their victories, lamenting in their losses.
Carrying the sinister grin of a vulture,
And the soft smile of a pelican.
Such is the life of these animals.
But ‘animal’ is such a crude term.
As one of nature’s natural born killers,
They pride themselves as skilled hunters,
Going at great lengths to reach their prey.
Some pose a threat. Others, are of innocence.
Some will disturb others. Others, left alone.
Some belong to a pack. Others, lone wolves.
A great variety, an abundance of influence:
The fuel to their self-proclaimed dominance.
A sinful pride, but by day’s end they refuse redemption.
And yet, in their arrogant perfection,
Their greatest fault is that of any other.
The murder of their own kind.
It’s a morbid life cycle.
But I refuse redemption.