In the gaze of the other

"My mistress' eyes are nothing…"

The Will and Testament of the Last Living Fortress 

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credit: http://www.rhinoresourcecenter.com/pictures/o/1218990307/Durers-rhino-1515.jpg

Hunkered down, head hung low in modest consternation,

a lonely ever lost lover has forgotten the link to his future.

Huge burden for squat shanks sunk in steely toed hooves

–the line of his kind–for the heart-white tank rests stilled

uncomfortably complex for a survivor’s fatigued fortunes.

The will to seed his fate is buried beneath a tragic query,

the horn of desire splayed as aimed weapon and snared

drum beats pound defeat and despair of all whose greed

swallows a species in unsurrendered satanic usurpation, 

a reply to which singes will: Why do we kill what we love? 

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