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.
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