A multitude of green hues bless the eye
with cooling relief from the tropic sun.
In contrast is the barren summer sky,
cobalt-black, as the day has just begun.
Here and there, wispy patches of fog cling
low to the ground retreating from the day.
The jungle stirs as errant breezes bring
an earthy scent of flowers and decay.
A million shades of viridian dance,
dappling the sunlight as it strikes the ground.
The rustling of leaves rises from the plants,
a careless symphony of random sound.
With the new day, the jungle teems with life,
the air filling with ebullient song.
Sudden silence cuts the din like a knife,
alerting the jungle to something wrong.
Just past the edge of the trees, darkness falls,
a black curtain darker than any night.
Within it's deepest heart, the quiet sprawls,
like a balm for that which hides from the light.
Slowly the jungle's vibrant sound returns,
enfolding the gloaming that surrounds it.
Above this place the fierce tropic sun burns,
humid air rising as does the spirit.
The jungle abounds with bold mysteries
that are steeped in ancient myth and death.
Rising in decadence above the trees,
are ancient ruins that saw man's first breath.
Great white slabs of marble and gray granite
stand untouched by the ravages of time.
Seven stones from nowhere on this planet
mark the boundaries that are free from slime.
Not a stone out of place nor swirling dust
mars the surface of this forbidden place.
The wind bends the trees away with each gust,
exposing the art of an unknown race.
At the end of the way an altar stands
encrusted with a film of old, dry, blood.
From it an aura of Evil expands
boiling outward in a horrific flood.
A piece of darkness moves and she is there,
a glossy midnight-black in every hue.
Magically, she appears out of the air
flashing ivory fangs and eyes of deep blue.
Azure eyes hold ancient wisdom inside
that leaves no trace of the life behind her.
She looks out over her domain with pride,
beginning the tale of the Black Tiger.
Now and forever, my heart hears ~one voice~.