A tiger running through the jungle,
Gliding across the forest floor.
A silent spirit in the trees,
Unseen until too late.

He sees and hears and senses all,
Seen and heard and sensed by none.
He prowls his jungle territory
Looking for his prey.

Birds of colorful plumage rest in the branches,
Large insects make their nighttime noises.
Vines fall from moss-covered trees,
Reaching towards bright flowers and green leaves.
The light filters through the canopy,
Falling upon lush undergrowth.

Moonlight and shadow dance upon his striped coat,
Rendering him invisible.
Strong muscles ripple beneath coarse, thick fur,
Powering him through the night.

His eyes are bright and glittering,
Matching the many stars above.
His stiletto-knife claws hide in his paws,
Padded for silent creeping.
His sharp teeth rest in strong jaws,
Waiting for the throat of his prey.

He lies in wait,
Completely motionless.
He blends into the shadow
Unnoticed by his prey.
He waits for the exact moment,
With practiced patience.

He lunges forth like liquid steel,
Leaping with lethal grace.
His claws land with fatal perfection,
Terrible teeth placed with deadly accuracy.

The tiger has made a successful kill.
Tonight he will feast.

Beware, beasts in the jungle of the night hunter!