Buffalo too often a victim of ambush

Hunters who take out Buffalo’s
With crossbow bolts held true
Should stop and think of the agony
They put the animal through
This bovine beast of burden
With a beating heart so wild
Is ambushed in home territory
He is Painfully defiled

Up there in The outback
Hunkering to kill
You come upon a lonesome guy
Feeding, and You spill
His blood with scorn and mockery
with disparagement so vile
Two arrows hit the target
That’s your hunting style

I so detest your reasoning
That’s an understatement here
Leave well alone I’m bewildered
By your arrogance it’s clear
2 arrows to possess him
Cross bow bolts they be
Tremendous force with love of course
But does his soul fly free

No he leaves a blood trail
As he tries to limp away
This miracle of Nature
That you decide to slay
Was it because you were hungry
And needed his flesh oh no
Just because you can ambush
A warrior and show
all your pals how clever
A hunter you have become
Taking on The monster
Sending it to kingdom come

What if you had no more Arrows
Then what might you do
But of course you are lousy shot
So two more they will ring true
Disrespect and wickedness
The order of your day
You are going to bust his raging heart
And send him on his way

The Fun of it your courage
This ungulate in pain
A miracle of sterner stuff
Than you who is insane
Sighing crying dying
At a faster rate
You creep up on him quietly
You violent reprobate

Again you hadn’t killed him
That was very clear
You are just the felon
And let me say my tear
Is for the warrior Buffalo
Not for the likes of you
Unprincipled and shameless
Unethical you drew
Out this animals misery
You tortured him
and he
Dug his horns into
Your rump he gored
You instantly

I see a lot of people
Well wishers who have heard
Your story Just how bravely
You Killed
And what occurred
To me the beast passed
To a place
Where he can be at peace
And one hope your wounds Are painful
And your hunting days
Will cease

But I hear after the skin grafts
You want To go again
Load up on the arrows though
For it is very plain
Your a lousy shot mate
A murderer more so
And I hope each hour of pain
Reminds you It’s best you really know

Fate or wild life karma
Has a peculiar way
Of feeding off the disparagement
That is going to come your way
HATHOR is the great god
And other wild souls will
Be more engaged and more enraged
As it’s your blood they will spill.

So hold that thought and make sure
That When you go again
This time they are after you
Your blood trail
Their disdain

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