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The prowler of the emptying forest
As I awaken, a valiant tunic of stripes on me, matching the sepia version of the forest.
Laying my clawed footsteps, nailed on the territory I own.
But those proud articulations of my subjects are now gone, putting grave matters abreast.
My family, their ancestors and the ones I called my siblings are all gone, I am all alone.
There in that tall grand green silhouette of my home, the waters there spiralled in eddies, producing a loud foam.
And there, too, was the smell of that lovely, fresh, cultivable loam.
Those moments! When my brother was killed by that out-breed,
When my niece (also playing my mate) was hunted for protecting My son who was abducted for it's greed,
And the news of my father and brother being whipped hard and forced to jump through flame rings!
And many more such news hurt me. Oh! I just wish they could be freed!
I have heard that a few thousand of my family, though scattered, still live.
It is a struggle to survive, each day passes with the fear and hope that they don't take what we give:
Peaceful life. I just want my home to be left free, and my cuddling family returned back.
Don't save us, just don't interfere. For once we are gone, we ain't gonna return, and there are many things you'll lack!
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