The chains pulled and the whips lashed

The chains pulled and the whips lashed,
And a stick hit her with a mighty crash,
The whips caused an almighty wrong,
As the blood, oh how the blood poured,
Disease sets in; thud,
Her body hits the floor,
No longer moving, no longer feeling, no longer anything.

She roars in hope of freedom,
But the poachers silence her.

Her cubs killed by a shot,
Her father killed in a trap,
Her brother taken young for his skin,
Her best friend never lived past two,
And now her soulmate laying there.

She roars in hope of freedom,
But the poachers silence her.

She sees the knife,
She sees the guns,
She stutters, panics, and runs,
Suddenly a net over her head,
Poachers approaching wanting to put her in an eternal sleep.

She roars in hope of freedom,
And this time she fights back,
And now the poacher’s lighting there no longer moving, no longer
feeling, no longer anything.

She strides away feeling proud and accomplished,
She lies down,
And calmly and peacefully goes into an eternal sleep.

Eleanor

[social_warfare]

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