If I were king of the forest, the creatures would cringe as I fly unhinged through the night. If I were king of the forest, the weak would die and cry as I have my way with their day. I would gather the snakes to destroy the rats and petition the bats to devour the gnats. The lambs I would take myself cloaked in stealth I'd sunder their flesh. Drinking their blood I would be refreshed. The leopard would fall to my brawn and dawn would find me sated calm and withdrawn but baited for prey. Ohhhh. Others think they could be king, but I have something to tell them. I would claw out their eyes and devour their lungs, ravage their daughters and savage their sons. It is not an easy task to be king of the forest. Courage is not sufficient. It is deficient. Mercy must give way to lust. Passion must supercede justice. Petitions must be met with munitions. Jaws and claws. The weak must be forced to speak with meakness to the king. It is only correct. It is only right to rule with fright. What concern of the king if the gazelle has not enough to eat? The gazelle is just meat to me. Disease is not an easement to me. I respect it not. Let the herbivores and omnivores rot! I carnivore, rule! And it does not disturb me that they scream in protest, that they detest my reign. Because I will not refrain from consuming their lives. I'll mate with their wives and live in their dens. I'll drink with their friends. And then, their friends will die too. If I were king...
Doug Quarnstrom, 1991
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