Tasmanian Tiger
A symphony of life once played,
Silent whispers of the fallen,
Echo through the earth.
Gone the roar of wild creatures,
Extinction's touch, a heavy shroud,
Leaves the world in silence.
Roamed the land, a top predator gone one by one,
Awaiting her last moments.
In Tasmania's embrace, a creature roamed,
The thylacine, elusive and rare,
A fateful tale, a species' despair.
Stripes of dusk adorned its back,
Nature's artwork, no colors lacked.
Eyes that held a mystic gleam.
Caged by man's relentless quest,
The thylacine's spirit laid to rest.
The last Tasmanian tiger, a poignant plea,
A fading echo in nature's tapestry.
The day arrives, a species lost,
Joining her ancestors.
Once proud and free, Now confined.
In shadows cast by human strife,
A ghostly memory of vanished life.
Yet, in the echoes of Tasmania's breeze,
The last thylacine roams in memories.
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