Hunters

Hunters conflate conservation
With hunting
An iniquitous paradigm
Solely suggesting
That their belief system
Is somehow attesting
Canned hunting animals for
The trophy wall
And who could want for more
Than the noblest and handsomest
Specimen head
for their great wall of victims
Bounded in dread

An equivocal character surely on call
Where excuses abound
Such souls made to fall
Only the old wounded one’s far beyond
Mating age
Only their parts will have donned
The walls of eternity
But we all know
It is not the bedraggled
But the specimen show

They lie to the world
To themselves to us all
They order their kill
And their blood then they spill
Petted as cubs farmed so they say
In pens or in cages
They while time away

Their names go in order books
And then when they
Are removed from their cage
To be shot on the day
That the hunter arrives
Enclosed in that space
No stalking no time lost
This method so base
So matter of fact
Its a great package deal
An execution
Which is for real

Take Cecil the lion
Lured out of his place
And shot with a bolt
The result
A disgrace

Many hours lying tortured
In pain
Then shot by the dentist
The next day
Such strain

Of wicked intent
Of unrighteousness
His courage mis-spent
Without the redress

A complete lack of conscience
An unscrupulousness
Where is the justice
We do feel the stress

A terrible act of an uncaring
Man
Who punished a wonderful being
His plan
To cut off its head
And ship it back to
His home in America
So clueless too

We were all up in arms
The world as a whole
Felt all the agony
Of that poor soul
Imposing such evil
Such vile disdain
Such condemnation
All of it in vain