The soul of a Leopard

An arrow he darts ‘cross the flat of the plane, with the wind at his side as he tries once again to appease the great hunger that fill’s his inside. This craving that drives what the herd will provide. to ambush the throng, with his skills re-applied Evolution enriches his chances of gain with colours that help on his hungered campaign. A camouflage perfect to hide close at hand. He ‘pounces be gone. . .‘Tis your end if you stand. This day is your last and not what you planned. Though emerald eyes, and the targets surveyed The runt is selected. The choice has been made. Their life clock is ticking, with them yet to know With seconds to midnight our leopard feels, “Go”. There’s no escape now on the open plateau. And even if ever they glance at his face. His skill of hypnosis will keep them in place. His flame as a chaser will never expire A peerless hunter for all to admire, but pray it’s not you that he aims to expire