King of the Forest - Alarm

A streak of dun, some movement vague,

Begins anew another day,

The wood is taking flight.

Faint flapping fills the far-flung fort,
To match the grunting of the boars,
Cacophony of life.

Dank moss resounds with shrieking calls,
Primeval snorts soon fill the halls,
A distant roar replies.
Wide-spreading still to every trail,
This morning rite which never fails,
Enchanting, screeching cries.

And now, he stirs, the Master grim,
He lifts his face and greets his kin,
The subjects of his realm.
Extending palms to hail the dawn,
He breaks the silence lasting long,
And shouts out to the sun.

With one swift leap, he ends his song,
And hastens on new journey long,
The Master's feet are swift.
While breaking branches swipe the air,
And tangling roots are cause for care,
This King will never trip.

But, lo! he stops and glances 'round,
A warning vague, a throbbing sound,
Forewarns, perhaps, of harm.
His heart leaps up, a sudden flash,
Pervades his sight, and then a crash,
Black crows scream in alarm.

Obscenely, from a stripling ash,
Protrudes a deadly, feathered shaft,
So perilously crude.
The forest dark is thick and wide,
Concealing many holes to hide,
To sleep, to eat, or shoot.