The Silence of Queen Anne's Revenge

Rescue is not relief

in routine suffocating on sameness

without a shred of option.

Remnants of adrenaline don’t bother to request backup anymore.

Humans wed their rationalizations

in expense-laden ceremonies ‘til death,

host hedge-funded honeymoons then post pictures for brochures

to convince anyone who will listen of exuberance,

of how charitable donations help furnish artificial comforts

to satisfy the board of governors,

glorify risk-benefit,

make a show of making a show

without an organic instance to speak of

in the quiet of days and nights.

The sign reads, ‘Anne’s Haven’ yet no one asked my name.

Trunk rumbling growls drew this calf to familiar greyness,

my herded enclosure.

Thick skin but a thin heart.

Man’s cruelty is unforgiven.

Calm unequal to contentedness.

Let broken bones and last breath steer royalty home.

Blood scent,

so Matriarchs sound my soul.

Thank you for reading this poem.

Although fictionalized, this work is based on a real 'Gray Soul' dubbed Britain's loneliest elephant.

Make your voice heard now:-

Animals only live once too. Their lives are well beyond worth living in natural harmony.