All the herbivores are celebrating.
That dead lion’s reputation’s deflating.
Despite all the bleating,
Was them he was eating.
Less terror, they’re anticipating.
Cecil’s dead – that’s a bit of a shame.
(Killing babies? – no! that’s not the same)
He had lived a long life.
Raised some cubs with each wife,
And was famous. (and certainly game)
So the world, it is now up in arms,
For a lion, it has primitive charms,
Unlike mere human trash,
To but plunder then smash –
Hunt this hunter – ‘his highness’ he harms.