A poem recited at Youth Maaveerar Naal held at Imperial College London earlier this week and written by a student at St George's University.
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Indolence rifles through the air
And rips the zeal from his soul
He pants, he gasps, he hopes
Blood curdles in his fur
The Crimson tide trickles over his orange furcoat
So that he is more palatable to onlookers
His stripes, once prominent and ebony, are futile against the impending nightfall
His flaccid lungs attempt to roar
To call those in distant lands
The reality is a feeble cry
That falls upon shrouded ears
In the distance
He watches
Methodical, maniacal, merciless
Dehumanised by passion and unrelenting in his objective
His rifle dusted in overgrowth, has its purpose vindicated
By a solitary bullet
He knows there can be no crime without punishment
Orphaned by violence, the cub awakens
Whiskers tingling
He knows change is afoot
He pants, he gasps, he hopes
Blood curdles in his fur
The Crimson tide trickles over his orange furcoat
So that he is more palatable to onlookers
His stripes, once prominent and ebony, are futile against the impending nightfall
His flaccid lungs attempt to roar
To call those in distant lands
The reality is a feeble cry
That falls upon shrouded ears
In the distance
He watches
Methodical, maniacal, merciless
Dehumanised by passion and unrelenting in his objective
His rifle dusted in overgrowth, has its purpose vindicated
By a solitary bullet
He knows there can be no crime without punishment
Orphaned by violence, the cub awakens
Whiskers tingling
He knows change is afoot
J.S