The gazelle is gifted with nimbleness and a certain degree of speed
But still the tiger makes his kill, his, is a greater need
The scavengers await their turn, whilst the tiger feeds her young
Vultures hover over watching, the blood dripping from her tongue
Nature feeds her children amply, in a way that’s fair and just,
Yet man still kills for pleasure for greed and gold and lust
Has Nature made us dominant to all the other things?
Or is there another species lurking, somewhere in the wings
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