The Majesty of the Elephant

The Majesty of the Elephant

Beneath the sun’s unyielding gaze,

Through forests deep and dusty haze,

A giant moves with silent might,

A king of dawn, a ghost of night.

The elephant, both vast and grand,

A living mountain, shaped by land.

With tusks like ivory crescent moons,

And gentle eyes like ancient runes.

Its trunk, a tool both strong and kind,

A seeker’s hand, a thoughtful mind.

It lifts the leaves, it sips the stream,

A silent poet, lost in dream.

The thunder of its steady tread,

Leaves whispers where its feet have led.

Each step a story, bold and old,

A tale of wisdom, fierce and cold.

In herds they march — a solemn pride,

With elders walking side by side.

Their bond unbroken, strong, and deep,

They mourn their lost, they softly weep.

For elephants, with hearts so wide,

Feel every joy and pain inside.

They know of love, they know of loss,

And bear their grief, no matter cost.

Beneath the tree, they gently stand,

A thousand years held in their hand.

Their memory, a timeless spark,

A glowing flame within the dark.

Yet man, with greed, has drawn his blade,

And stolen tusks where hope once stayed.

The giant falls, the forest cries,

As silent sorrow floods the skies.

Oh, let us guard these ancient souls,

Protect their dreams, their hidden goals.

For in their eyes, the world still gleams,

A quiet strength, a land of dreams.

The elephant — a noble heart,

A living art, a world apart.

So may they roam both far and free,

Majestic souls of land and sea.

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