Struggle Beneath the Canopy

Beneath the thick and tangled green,
Where sunlight fights to pierce the screen,
A world unseen by human eyes
Awakes with roars and silent cries.

The leopard stalks with shadowed tread,
Its golden eyes by hunger led,
While in the brush, the gazelles leap,
With pounding hearts and breath held deep.

The monkey swings from limb to limb,
Its chatter sharp, its senses grim,
It knows the hawk that rides the skies
Will strike before it hears the cries.

A python coils in hush of shade,
Where foolish feet and fate have strayed,
The jungle floor, both home and snare,
Each rustling leaf a whispered dare.

The lion rules, but not with peace,
Each hunt a gamble, no release,
Even the mighty feel the press—
Survival wears a jungle dress.

The ants march on, a tiny horde,
With silent wars and no reward,
While termites build, and beetles hide,
Their battles small, but dignified.

In shadowed nights, the silence breaks
With cries that echo through the lakes—
The strong survive, the weak must yield,
Such is the law in nature’s field.

No mercy here, no gentle guide,
Just tooth and claw and shifting tide,
Yet still they live, and still they strive—
The jungle breathes, and things survive.