Prefect Predator

 

Deep beneath the surface, gliding—hypnotic

Undulating through a fluid world.

A swimming, silver metronome, skillful

With all its senses subtly seeking prey.

 

The perfect predator; countless life times

Evolving and honing sensory awareness

Without a hint of artifice—

Who could guess its constant deadly course

From a seemingly aimless wonder?

 

But the scent of a kill is never far

From sensuous tissues. Rising to expose rows

Of glistening daggers, the Great White's cuspids crush

And grind, ripping flesh, feasting

With eyes closed, leaving gashed vital organs to rot.

 

Is it conscious of the scene of carnage,

Or is destruction all it knows of living?

 

 

B. Benjamin

Free verse

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