Leopard’s Vigil
Upon the boughs, in shadows deep,
A leopard wakes from fleeting sleep.
Golden coat with rosettes strewn,
A predator beneath the moon.
His piercing gaze, both fierce and still,
Commands the forest, bends its will.
Each leaf that stirs, each breeze that sighs,
Answers the call of ancient eyes.
The tree, his throne, a fortress high,
Where stars drift slowly through the sky.
A silent king, with patient grace,
He watches over his hunting place.
Below, the earth in quiet rests,
But hunger stirs within his chest.
For soon the hunt will start anew,
A dance of death, both swift and true.
Yet in this moment, calm and free,
The leopard rules his twilight tree.
A shadow draped in dappled light,
Majestic phantom of the night.
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