Marauders

Even in the stealth, the pride of the marauder is clear as a day,

Walking into the calm forest, with the confidence,

Ready to pounce, even on the tiniest of prey

The marauders, with the rolling eyes

and plundering mighty paws

Cunning and mighty

With no mercy for the prey

Blind to the size and age

Even the tiny gazelles, with their gait and grace, die at their hand

The marauders, and their thirst for blood.

It is never enough

The blood-lust

The thrill of the kill

With every kill, a forest unrest,

Unstoppable.