Lurks in the shadows- mingles with blades tall.
Parting them to peep
at a game that opens into- gunshots and ricochets,
Bursts of blood and rain.
Spurts of life driven out of his own…
His own, who gave him life,
licks of love and warmth.
She, who launched him
to his own love for pungence - the colour red
She, who gave him his form.
Jungle demon yellow little,
Paint strippen’ black.
He doesn't deserve a death - nor pity
Just his country back!
He stands in awe
at the gasps, the chokes,
the groans in full colour – raw.
(He's witness to massacre…)
He stands there clueless -
before those misty eyes
that stare at him,
and then into nothingness.
Jungle demon yellow little,
Paint strippen’ black.
He doesn’t deserve a death - nor pity
Just his country back!
