The Last Will and Testament of the Tiger

When you have stolen my skin from my entity
and removed the roar from my life
O hunter wield that thunder stick
with some grace some skill
I too have hunted and killed many many times

but every kill
was a prayer in praise of the Creator
My movements were always clear clean and merciful
Such is the way of true believers

Do you now slice slash and pare clean O Skinner
I pray only that you leave no part of me behind
to be eaten by the Jackal and the Hyena
I have ruled this forest on behalf of the creator himself
and there is no honour in a king becoming carrion

So send the sacred colour from my coat
back to the maker of sunsets
Return the darkness of my stripe
back to the shadows and the undergrowth
Send the white from my fur back to the frost of a new ice age
that it return to avenge me
Send my roar back to my maker
that he fill the universe with my rage
at this shabby end for a true king

Send my claws to the young of the high born
to save them from their own nightmares
Send my teeth to Tibet that their aspirations find new Teeth
Send my bones to China that they find a cure
for the fear that builds such great walls

Send my fat to Singapore so they learn to make a balm for pain
that is mine not only in name
Send my Shit to the Alchemists
for that is the only substance they have not yet tried

Give my entrails to whoever shall take them
But hang on to my eyes you puny murderer
That your tribe might know that you did not kill a creature beneath you
that I looked you in the eye and did not flinch when you shot me

Instead I have turned away
Released
from the cancer of your footprint

Amit Dahiyabadshah