Hunting for that beloved trophy

Hunting for that beloved trophy
A business that attracts those who
Are taken in by the philanthropic
Fiction
Rewarding what they do
Bushmeat its the locals who
Are rewarded for the work they do
The hunters with their where for all
Who provide wild food
And they pay to school
Again the local tribes
Who can
Indulge in a permaculture plan

Without the great white hunters
They
Most would starve
Thats what they say
The safari clubs
And the shooting farms
The holiday package
With all its charms

A proper ethos
Down the line
Fortuitous you see the sign
Able to kill wild animals and
Create a footing on the land
A hero in so many ways
A connectedness
Worthy of praise
A logical argument
Often spouted
When the true ideas
Are sometimes outed

A price list or a hit list
Showing
The animals all of them a glowing
Reference to the promised kill
A holiday requiring skill
The beloved trophy
A living soul
A godly call
A promised goal

Many canned the expression for
Animals trapped and drugged
Up for sure
Easy meat rolled out and ready
Hold your rifle better steady
There’s the Lion aim and shoot
A petted caged drugged
Soul to suit

One of the big game
Guaranteed
Thats the trophy yes indeed
A tragic tale of doctored souls
Once they were kings
With honoured roles
But now just caged up
In a zoo
Brought out to be killed
By the likes of you

You are doing Godly work
The sick the injured
Some they lurk
Thats what they tell you
But what you get
Is unrelated
Those souls were set

The skin is sold
The bones shipped to
Vietnam thats what they do
The Lion Bone Tiger Bone
Medicine trade
Discordant notes
are sadly played

Its all a package
And animals die
Shot to death
You just apply
Signed the paper work
Pay the cash
And get to the place
Its arranged in a flash

Trophy hunting
A giraffe will do
Much cheaper than Lions
And good meat
Its true
Easy to kill
And many are
So many in fact
That this superstar
Is fading fast
Which is such a shame
Becoming rarer
And we can blame

Trophy hunting
For that alas
The photo shoot
The trophy mass
The power the exultation there
A beautiful soul
And you did dare
To stand in front
And aim and feel
The ground as it shudders
Now for real

All that flesh for the locals who
Know in their hearts
And can thank you
Their saviour, your money
It Compensates
The death of a animal
Now at the gates
Of heaven again all thanks to you
The trophy hunting
True guru

Your eminence
Your supremacy
You are seen in the ascendancy
You what that is
You believe its true
When reality
Should prove to you

You’ve been conned alas
A supporting role
Cant you feel the shabbiness
A small time role
In the drama playing
Its awful here
Used and abused
And all that fear

The integrity is minor they
Have tossed the wholeness clean away
The all embracing hunting scene
Is a put up job
Its far from green
Its a mean construct
The whole bang shoot
Formless and sketchy
At its root

The natural order
By the board
Harmony cancelled
No accord
Un regulated
Embroiled in grief
For me it feels
Beyond belief

And parts of the animals
Stuffed and returned
As ornamentation
I am concerned
Its weird its evil
Its wholly wrong
Animal parts
Of course belong

To the wild souls romping where God put them