Little cubs and their fate

Petting farms are the early signs
Of the egotists and how
They feed into canned hunting
Happening sadly now
Self interest
And those who indulge themselves
Whose interests they pursue
Attracting volunteers to come
And do what the ignorant do

Participate in the uptake
In the sanctity of hope
Feeding the little charges
Helping them to cope
Humanising wildness
Enobling them to be
Less frightened of the humans
Into infinity

It’s a principle of evil
Amorality
Those who lack the morals
And the degeneracy
A slippery slope
To wrong doing
For what is to be
A life and death
For the miscreants
Who reach their iniquity

The little cubs grow
Larger
Farmed as fodder for
The lousy arrogant hunters
Depraved and what is more
Will to pay handsomely
For the opportunity
To kill a Lion that is sacrificed
By the true delinquency

Complicit in the torture
Part of the venison sin
Ending the life of Beautiful soul
Whose innocence they spin
Without any compunction
Without any remorse
Shot down by the hunter
With unrelenting force

There isn’t reparation
Atonement will not be
Granted it’s an offering
It’s compensatory
We abandon souls to indulgence
To the self intemperate ways
The so called kings are slaughtered
And the canned hunter pays

Clearly for their wantonness
Their prurience snd lust
They become a vulgar tragedy
One of complete disgust
Close in to transgression
And unlawfulness
They should be prosecuted
And live their lives in stress