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In the jungle of our collective heritage
In our wild teaming with endless species of flora and fauna
In the savannah, the tropics and the deserts of our kingdom
There is place for neither the honest nor the peace-loving
I am not adding to adages, I am talking reality
I  am talking about the principle of virtue
And of the practicality of vice
I am talking about the cat family of our jungle life
That is celebrated for disrupting our conscientous existence
They are deemed meritorious because we are miserable
Because they are admired, our clamours go unheard
We are lowly, we are vulnerable, we are defenseless
We set our table with vegetation, but graze them with trembling
We respect their pathways but they don't respect ours
Under the lush delicacies of our livelihood, they ambush us
By the edge of our collectively-owned flows, they await us
They parade majestically and in showy antics, they stretch and growl
We see their prowess and bravery flaunted, and we cower into shades
They mock our meekness, even our gentleness, they deride
They mistake our peacefulness with cowardice
We are no cowards; we are only not favoured with their strength
We recognize our weakness the way they recognize their strength
And we bow loyally to their wishes and decline their contests
But our every decline provokes and challenges their ego
Our surrender and our protest are alike to them 
Our existence is their headache, yet their means of livelihood we are
They will not stop until they have suppressed us into extinction
Unfortunately, when we are gone they shall be gone too
They shall comprehend the truth but very late
That though the cat rules, the jungle shall breathe without it
But without us, there is neither the jungle nor the cat

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