The world has strayed mad,

helpless to avoid what many degrade as sad;

Creatures who hide with no voice....

scatter into the woods – there is no choice;

I hear them call,

I fear them stalked,

their silent stares bash me like stone walls;

Must there be an outcry?

Gruesome sights,

Be the reason why,

I too, will stand to fight?

No one hasn't much to declare,

till these gentle beasts are no longer there.