As the light pierces the sky, the day breaks once more, the eye of the red sun beholds her majesty. A slender black frame- the cocoon to her chi that burns like the soul of an orchestra composed in the wild. A-foot a tree, she sits- the wings of a butterfly beat for her heart in natures nest- she grazes with fur as sharp as her...
Then the passing of the day turns into night... and the hunt ensues her fiendish rite.
Silent black features she glides, a regal creature- with yellow orchid eyes observing an oblivious pool. At the East River lake a-thousand breaths lay in wait, a mother's young doe-eyed doe, is to follow in his ancestors' wake. Flesh cuts through flesh, then chaos lives in their eyes- over as soon as it began his unsuspecting heartbeat dies...
Perhaps our own gods once lived to blur the lines between natures beauty and it's cruel fate - For how often have humanity's black creatures existed as prey, unbeknownst to a destiny that is great.