In the jungle's heart, where the wild things roam,
Stalks a creature of beauty, grace, and chrome,
Its coat is painted with stripes of black and gold,
And its eyes gleam with a fierceness, brave and bold.
The tiger is a predator, swift and strong,
Its muscles ripple as it pads along,
Through the dense jungle, it moves with ease,
Its senses sharp, it hunts with expertise.
Its roar is like thunder, rumbling and deep,
It echoes through the forest, making prey weep,
For when the tiger strikes, it strikes to kill,
Its teeth and claws are deadly, and it knows the drill.
But though the tiger is a hunter, fearsome and wild,
It's also a creature of beauty, gentle and mild,
In the sunlight, its fur glows like molten gold,
And its grace is a sight to behold.
So let us remember the tiger, regal and free,
A symbol of strength, courage, and majesty,
May it always roam the forests of our earth,
A reminder of the wildness that gives life its worth.
About the Creator
Karun
🌿✨ Karun, a poet weaving emotions into verses, embarked on the journey of words to unearth the beauty of feelings. In the delicate dance of ink and emotion, my poetry delves into the nexus of the human heart and the natural world.✍️
Bartender
On the heels of grief, pain bears down hard. On the heels of death, pain awakens the quiet place between the end of our own life and now. Feeling anything is like seeing a film and in black and white, slow motion, all sound turned off. Just watching. Gritting teeth, awkward smiles and bloody red eyes move around, scanning the others who are feeling something I don't want to feel, but I do. Escapism is all I have ever known. ~
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)3 days ago in Poets
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