A step backwards into the abyss

Digging out a fox and then allow the hounds
To tear
The wild boy into pieces
To horror and despairHunters they wear red coats
Blood significantly
For in the pursuit of pleasure
They murder mercilessly

Our wild indigenous soulful creature
Which has been resident here
With as much right to be where it is
And these haughty men of fear
The pompous pitiless plug ugly gits
Who ride the countryside
With hardly an ounce of empathy
And their spitefulness denied

Hiding under cloaks of culture
So called men of class
Hurtful, caustic and hard bitten
Stuck up men of brass
But such cruelty is obvious
And so to repeal an act
Where they took great long steps forward
And, it, publicly backed

It to turn kindliness to malevolence
Benign to cruelty
The hatred of a living soul
The revulsion all can see
The arrogance personified
The defiance if you please
The disrespect of property
Its all seen as a breeze

The injurious call it hunting
And treat it as a sport
Clad in fearsome crimson
Hubristic men in short
Their puffery is overdone
Bravado so to say
Titled men have come to be
Traditionally held sway

To it, to the yeoman of the day
The aristocratic gentry
Once thought this ought to be
A spirt in which the hoi polloi
Could never ever see
Demeaning and unheroic
Discredited I’D say
Those who hunt the foxes
Carry infamy and pay

If Britain via the tory toffs
Repeal this law then we
Descend into a maelstrom
Of dark adversity
A lowering of standards
Of honour and regard
Back to a notoriety

Of ingloriousness and this Bard
Will sicken in his purpose
For wild souls seldom reign
And the so called men of courage
Should be met with real disdain
They have to be put in their place
Taken to task today
Made to stop this spitefulness
And be on their way