Categories
Poetry

Dead ivory 

First it was horror, 

Watching a breath simmer quietly away

Staring at the sight that her memory must stay

And then, then the full reality sets in

Today the useless tusk must rot with the carcass

The body a meal to billions of worms,

But the body and tusk, both are gone, wasted 
Tears are naught, a grave above the earth where you once ruled, 

Where you once gathered your flock and fed them fat

Where the trees are green and the rivers flow peacefully, 
But this view of the wild is forever relinquished in your pain of death

By man’s malevolence, in the eyesore created by your friend; man

You won’t likely remember the face, the face that struck the blow

The face that took your being and made you a meal of worms
Tears are naught, the land you walked remained unperturbed

The family you kept walked without you, with white tusks

And yours was a story which they must live with forever.