He was sad,was laying alone,
In the dark,in dense forest,
All of them had gone away,
Advising him to take the rest.

He was an old, sick elephant,
Gazing with half-open eyes,
Dark shadows,all around him,
Floating far and near-sink and rise.

Members of his herd had departed,
Paying him great respect and regard,
He was the leader of their group,
His leadership was firm and hard.

He was the proud winner in life,
Who was defeated only by age,
His life-span was the golden book,
And now was the last, dark page.

He closed his eyes, and thought,
''Why I am now worshiped by all,
Why they shower such sympathy on me,
Why my image has become so tall?'

'No wild animal comes near me,
This area has become restricted zone,
They see me, and turn their eyes,
As if,I am an inert tree,rock,or stone.'

The elephant tried to raise his trunk,
But was not able to lift the same,
He remembered those sunny days,
When shower bath was his regular game.

He tried to see in darkness,but in vain,
No monkey,no deer, was there to play,
No cuckoo was jumping on his back,
No baby-elephant was laying in mud and clay.

A few days ago,he had met with a lion,
Who was called the great forest king,
In past,he  had wrapped the lion in his trunk,
And had thrown him away after a swing.

Now, the lion looked at him with pity,
He did not roar,nor showed the sharp nail,
-Calmly, moved around with sympathy,
And touched the forehead with his tail.

His family gave him a cold response,
His near and dear had turned their eyes,
Yet he was decorated with great honor-
'Most respected senior,old, and wise.'

His enemies had become neutral to him,
His friends kept a cautious distance,
He was alone with his huge heavy body,
loneliness was his surrounding fence.

With all efforts and attempt,he stood up,
Trembling and shaking,he walked ahead,
Towards an unknown mysterious valley,
As his fore-father had once said.

Wild elephants went there for last journey,
For ever,to disappear from sight,
Between high mountains that valley was,
Without echo,sound ,life and light.

It was a myth spread among elephants-
If they ignore the ancestral call, in the last,
The decaying heap of ivory shatters,
And the valley, itself reaches them very fast.

Leaving behind the empty frame of glory,
The old wild- elephant slowly vanished in dark,
A new portrait, painted with honor and regard,
Was waiting for  nature- frame, in elephant-park.


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