Beauty in the Beast
Are they tiger-moth’s wings
or predator’s eyes?
Or even things in the
mouth of a tiger in disguise?
Either way, can't hide the
beauty in the beast.
For what was a ‘kill’
became ‘game’ and then got bar-coded and inhumane
And now it’s plastic-packed
into 20-foot long freezer frames.
Until it’s hard to
find the beauty in the beast.
Who hunts whom now? The
question is
Now that man is not
just the hunter king of all beasts,
But also the farmer
of his own species?
Is there -after all
this evolution- no compassion solution?
But rather exploitation
packed into shopping cart illusion?
Let’s try to find the
beauty in the beast.
‘Cause one day our
demise could be marked by the sound of fluttering wings
And the buzzing of bees
sharpening their stings
Taking flight from
dark corners to multiply in the sun
as they once did long
ago, before we had ever begun
To exist… like the
beauty in the beast.
Copyright ©
Francisco Rebollo 2014
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