The Cheetah

In the still of the night

I dream of a beast

Its coat of black and gold

Eyes as golden as the sun

That sees right into my soul

With the speed of the wind

I call him the King, King of the Wind

And as he runs, his feet never touches the ground

'Cause he flies with the Wind

Then suddenly he stops and looks into the dark

looking at something unseen

He became as still as a statue

A status of black and gold

A statue at one with the night

Then suddenly he came alive,

With colours that flashed through the night

He sprung through the air and land on his prey

Taking the poor creature's soul

I wondered what his name was

Was it something exotic like 'Fear' or 'Fierce'?

A name when you hear, will make you shiver with fear

But out of the dark, thousands of voices whispered

'His name is Cheetah, Cheetah, King of the Wind'