Like shadows on the forest floor,
the stealthy mark of Tiger's spoor.
No branch or vine is left to sway
when passed the Tiger on his way.

Down by the river running deep,
the hunted stir in restless sleep.
As ghostly from between the trees
the Tiger strikes with lightning speed.

From swaying limbs above on high,
the Monkeys scream a warning cry.
The night swells black with primal roar.
Cruel flash and glint of unsheathed claw.

In clamoured panic, racing heart,
the resting herds are torn apart.
Rip tooth, full blooded is the kill
as Tiger takes his nightly fill.

No chance of fleeing from his might.
Unearthly; yellow eyed that night.
Death came amidst the willing prey,
when passed the Tiger on his way.