The sharp, crisp, forest air,
To which no other scent compares,
Stirs the fur of the life-giving Earth,
Inside a den, a she-cat gives birth.
A tom-kit filled with caring and love,
With fur the color of a peaceful dove,
A she-kit filled with anger and rage,
Her pelt the color of a shadowed cage.
Their mother leaves to hunt for prey,
The sister follows, the brother stays.
Shifty golden eyes gleam,
The mother basks in a sunbeam.
Sharp claws gleam, sister leaps,
Mother screams, mother shrieks.
A she-cat lies, cold and still,
A gray cat sits to eat her kill.
Her ears prick up, a yowl sounds,
She licks her lips, she stands her ground.
How nice to see you brother dear,
I expected you to find me here.
Her brother stands frozen with shock,
The she-cat laughs, but then must block,
A whirlwind of teeth and claws,
Of slashing fangs, of snapping jaws.
The gray cat falls to the tom's paws,
He has her beat, against all odds.
Her life bleeds out, she wonders How?
Her brother sobs, but look! There! Now!
A she-kit's soul bursts from its cage,
White no longer consumed by shade,
The tom collapses from relief,
The she-kit stares, then mewls in grief.
Her brother's soul not safe from dark,
Greed and Wrath corrupt his heart.
Shadowed claws pull her in,
The dark will forever win.
