For the love of Rhino

BLACK RHINO DAWN ?

Carefully step over the bones.
No longer needed to prop up the ancient mystery.
Torn from the soft field, the babe searches for rest.
Hollowed out and empty,
love’s fine teachings
lost.

The sound of falling,
the last one’s bones
now flute the notes
of paths found and
lost.

Thundrous feet are
now replaced on the last path.
Racing to meet the lost ones,
we have one species left,
us.

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