Are Hunters aware of the ramifications somehow I doubt it

How much better
it might have felt
armed with a camera
Take home his trophy
a live Wolf and Bear
He’s captured them,
shared them
and of course
spared them
The horror of death
Spared partners the grief
and children who might
Die out in the forest
they would curl up and perish
with little relief.

Now Mummies been murdered
In the den her sweet cubs
died out of sight
They will starve
wondering where
She said she was going
to get them some dinner
and died in her quest
Shew so unaware

Of the Hunter who cares not
a jot, that his footprint
might extend to a family
close by, not a thought
He’s killed a wolf, and his Bear
And he’s happy
He goes back to his desk job
and really he ought
High 5’s his mates
degenerates see him
as the bold hunter
not the murdering B
The problem is there
is a business
its money, its giving support
to the fraternity.

Wild life is there to
be shot down and murdered
God made them so that the hunters
can be
Out in the forest with bow
and with rifle
to take out whatever
comes by tragically

the smack of the arrow
it enters the wild soul
who runs clearly
knowing the end
in now nigh
Respect I have none for these
weak wayward fellows
who perhaps kills a mother
and her babies, too die

Snuffed out, a family
who loved one another
for a miserable trophies
to be filed away
in some dusty album
and too soon forgotten
Back to the desk job
The bow stored away