The Killer Bee

The Black Death stands with his herd nibbling on the tough, stubby grass. The large crown adorning his head gleaming in the noon-time sun. Suddenly, he feels a large bee pierce his side. He does not hear the sound that follows. He simply runs with the rest of the herd. Away from the bee which pierced his hide He grows weak as he tries to follow his herd But, falls nostrils first into the dirt. He does not rise for a time And instead waits for his herd to return. But, they leave him in the hot African sun, to burn. He does not see them approach. Does not know that they encroach Upon the space which he holds so dear. And again the bee stings his thick, black hide. And with one last, long sigh He dies Because of the killer bee That stung his hide. They cape him out. While his body is still stout And place his head above the fire For all to admire.