The Circle of Life

A predator among us. A villian in our midst. An entity of evil, Clouding up our wits. Preying on the innocent. Devouring the strong. A sycophant immortal. Unbound by right and wrong. White wool adorning The curves of their form. Cloven hooves dragging on the ground with the worms. No hoofprints behind them. just the four toed paws dotted at the tips by their long and angry claws. Nature is a cruel being. Creating monsters in her storms. No one understands And everyone is torn. The prey will always villify those who are higher than they on the food chains bottom the sheep will always stay. The wolves are meant to feed without remourse consume The psyches of the weak to bring them to their doom. The sheep will bleat and bellow in fear of those wolves And try to justify their blindness by stamping hard their hooves. Hiding in the herd, the prey upon their back the predators facade turns their wool to black. Such is natures way. No one is at fault. The circle of life. The predators of thought. For who can blame the hungry beast for eating to survive When you people create such feasts And tantalize our eyes. We can not feel guilty for gaining our sustenance. consider this my fealty for i shall not repent.