‘Survival of the fittest’

Smell the rotting stench of death 
Putrid particles fill the air
Betwixt this massive mould of meaty flesh
Devoured remnants of blood-stained hair

A frenzied flock of vultures 
Congregate overhead
Alighting on this lifeless carcass
Feasting on where others have fed

Leftovers from the Lioness
She held luncheon on her partners kill
Not a sight for the faint-hearted
A roaring, ripping blood-curdling
chill

Scavenging hyenas scarpered the beastly banquet scampering away
from the mighty King of the jungle
As his bloated belly cubs idly play

Multitudes of maggots materialze
A dispicable, disgusting sight
Bleeding amidst the bones of rich remains
On their gross, godawful, gristly delight

Alas this departed creature
Once was the hallowed head of his herd
An enormous African elephant
Brutally butchered so ghastly absurd

Caught in a split second of 
unawareness
Ignorance of prowling Lion’s view
A humunous heavenly appearance
for a neverending hungry chew

Our food chain of fascination
The name of the game in a wilderness story
Nature’s cycle of the ‘Survival of the fittest’
The powerful victor conquers his glory