Remembering Cecil

The sublimity of Nature
The nobility we see
The grandeur of each moment
In the great scenery

Take pride in what our eyes
Observe
The beauty of these souls
Relaxing in each others company
If it were not for trolls
For vile inflicting dentists
And other hunter sods
Who picked their spot
And stole a life
From the noses of the gods

Cecil took his punishment
When an arrow pierced him hard
He must have hurt a great deal
But he was sorely scarred
The hideosity of hunters
Walter Palmer he
Was selfish arrogant pratt of a man
Who you wouldn’t stop to pee

Upon him if he was well on fire
A creep of the order of fiends
His judgement very shot away
He created ugly scenes
As haggard as the day was long
Poor Cecil took the force
And the next day he was finished off
As a matter of course

Its was all about the trophy
The collar and the rest
This arse cared nothing for anyone
He was someone to detest
Someone to practice voodoo on
Stick pins in him all day
Force them down into his guts
And really make him pay

To see poor Cecil sitting with his
Family we know why
Palmer came to Zimbabwe
To make the felines sigh
To remind us those who loved him
How majestic and how true
He was a special earthling
Whose wildness just shone through

He walked with grace and beauty
His knowledge set him free
His countenance exceptional
Really just to see
Him pacing, all his agility
And guile was on display
His value to the earth
And to the pride
And on that day

That Palmers rotten arrogance
Gave weight and Cecil found
The agony of the arrow that hit him
On the ground
It put an end to Cecil
The following day they tracked
The wounded boy to somewhere
Where of course they attacked

Shot him dead and butchered him
Stole this warrior soul
And realised his collar
Put them in a hole

I guess they might have panicked
But blackguards through and through
They stole his head and other parts
And scarpered
Thats what they do
Get out of Zimbabwe
For the shit could hit the fan
And really this whole party
Should get a lifetime ban

But they are rich and they have clout
No doubt greasing palms
And certain people look away
Then they have no qualms
About him or the poor dead lion
Their money helps them forget
As to their awful karma
That debt is now set

In stone they will be paying
In this life or the next
The great Lion he was slaughtered
And the world at large did text
Their really solemn messages
Whilst Palmer stayed Scott free
Clearly the king of psychopaths
Who will suffer painfully

His fees are obviously excessive
If he can afford to buy
Officials in Zimbabwe
And if course rely
On getting out of the country
And taking his trophies back
And going after the elephants
And just mounting his attack

We think again of Cecil
What a magnificent soul he was
Really very handsome
Probably because
His marking and his splendid mane
Was colourful and fine
And sitting with his entourage
Was an amazing sign

A character of brightness
Of light and silent thought
Actually he looked the part
In the spot light he was caught
Everything about him was memorable and right
And murdered for a trophy
Turned every day to night