Savannah Sky
The pride of lions on the hunt
Beneath the hot and arid sun,
A zebra foal will bear the brunt;
The chase begun.
Across the dry and dusty plain
Grazing unaware of danger,
The first link in the killing chain;
Unknown stranger.
The weakest of the herd will die
To feed the ever hungry pack,
With death beneath Savannah sky;
Instant attack.
They take their ease beneath the tree,
The waning sun now takes its rest,
There wrapped in gold for all to see
Is nature's best.

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