Night of the tiger

I stalk my prey, through the dead of night, Through thick green leaves, the moons soft light. Vines would melt, from the crowns of trees, Each paw would lay, under cover of the breeze. My eyes are golden, my pupils are pierced, My breathing delayed, my face is fierce. My teeth are quite sharp, a stained yellow shade, My coat of burnt orange, to black stripes it will fade. I’ve locked on my target, branches snap on my paw, I’m in a state of mind, saliva falls from my jaw. My breathing stops, my heart slows down, As the animal I approach, eats leaves from the ground. The cub by my side, hasn’t quite learned, The art of stalking, to avoid being heard. My cover is blown, the animal darts up, The chase is now on, thanks to my cub. The animal is fast, darting through the leaves, But my eyes lock on, to where it weaves. The leaves and snapped branches, fly through air, As my golden orb eyes, are latched and stare. My paws are built, for this kind of terrain, The hard shelled beans, will feel no pain. I pounce through lines of morning light, The rising sun, waves goodbye to the night. I caught my prey, through the skin of my teeth, The chase was intense, fast and brief. My cub comes clumsily, bouncing off the floor, I stand with bloodied chin, adrenaline to my core. This animal died, so we could survive, The battle of nature, to stay alive. I look up through canopies, of sunlit green, I see spots of sky, a shade of aquamarine. I look at my cub, with her hungry tired eyes, I look at my prey, a missing chunk from its thigh. Our stomachs are filled, for a few more days, I respect my prey, on the cold ground it will lay.