Wolves lamenting

And why are you the way you are
And what is death to mean
The bad arse human hunters
Are the farthest thing from green
They care nothing for the wilderness
Creation never put
Them there to manage anything
They are rotten and their foot
Print is found at laying traps
And baiting hides for we
Are the only managers my friends
Now can’t you see

Freedom we work the forests the wilderness
We pack
Families we are beholden to our group
And our attack
Tourists come to see us
With their cameras and I pads
And we perform our living styles
All of us are lads

Of course we are pure icons we
Shine in many ways
Our howl can make the hunters blood
Freeze just if he strays
Closer than he ought to
without his rifle cocked
Extinction yes the bad arse hunting men
Have somehow flocked

Into the diminishing arena
With their bad arse guns and bows
Cowards who use the ambush method
Increasing our woes
Bringing us to our end game
Everywhere we go
The bad arse filthy hunter trapper
Shoots as well you know

Blaming our predation of his sheep
And cows but we
Seldom ever take them down
They lie increasingly
And then from out of your
Flying birds
Machine guns rattle down
And we are shot to pieces
In our blood we drown

I want you all to realise
We wolves will always be
The harbingers of good fortune
Of balance in this world
We are not the mean spirited
Killers those words are
Often hurled
The absurdity of all of that
The senselessness its wrong
The breadth of mind and understanding
Is our eternal song

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
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