Our Jungles.

Welcome to our jungles so wild,

There is an intimacy that you'll feel.

Cause your soul will touch their spirits,

And every story they'll reveal.

Of how the vultures fed on the dead,

And how the coromandel’s fell.

How the scats, pugmarks and the alarm calls,

Led to the tigers and leopards in the end.

For what I'd sensed on the twelfth night of the fourth month of this year,

The winds blew hard and mourned the sky as the jungle lost one of its tigers. 

Caught in a snare that beast supposedly free, death lay in its fate.

Thunderstorms and rains a bit mild went on far so late. 

The morning very next was dull, the mourning of the skies ceased.

The sun then came above us high and the shadows hence decreased. 

On the roads of red the wild dogs fed on a Sambhar kill they made,

They tore it alive, swept it from the skin to bone.

And then it was devoured.

Then fought two tigers, one won,

The other left to come back stronger.

He took his injuries to his heart, 

Now he knows who he must tear apart. 

Another jungle, another story 

The ones in the wild know it all,

That when rises one tiger strong and bold,

Another must fall. 

Beneath the blanket of stars studded in the night so dark,

Called out spotted deer’s from nearby.

A leopard caught a doe in its clutches and that was her story's end.

Her fawn came the next morning and saw its mother lying dead. 

A tigress mourned the death of her cub,

Revenge was what she was seeking.

She wept with grief

And attacked the tiger, the one who killed her son. 

And then he knew that he wasn't leaving without scars and none. 

This is the story of jungles. No mercy yet it is romance. 

Go find yourself trapped in it. 

And you'll never leave it, not by chance.