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There laid the empty gray trunk;
never to hold a thing again.
There in the blood-wet soil,
a sadden decaying lump.
Dead and no longer in life’s pain;
lifeless—no longer in earthly toil.
Gone are the rumbling fun echoes
and self-gushing joyous showers;
Leaving only keloid ivory memories
to be as tombstone flowers.
Thus is the sad eerie fate
of a great regal elephant;
A victim of greed’s sake—
and man’s pleasure hunt.
Ironically–in schoolyard-like graves–
in the brightness of ivory sunshine days,
Our children–like joyful trumpeting elephants–
have become victims of man’s pleasure hunt:-
