Two Kinds of Red
For all the endangered
Is it just a clump of twinkling red moss?
No! It has stirred!
The frosted lichen is not so, for it is an ivory tear!
What surrounds the glistening tear is not at all moss,
for it is a jacket of the creature.
Obsidian vines drape and sway from the tree,
sharp thorns protrude and grasp at the air!
Until.
It stirs no longer.
A horrendous sight with laughter and glee!
The poor creature is no longer!
The killing arrow and thick wine slowly plunges,
along with the lifeless creature.
Into a net of vibrance and green it spills.
This is nothing but a soul of money, right?
No. This is what I say to you my dear friends,
This soul is almost gone, lost!
The soul of the Wah,
the Red Panda.
