Born in the sun-drenched grasslands of Africa
some odd 50 years ago.

He grew to be a lumbering giant
the local rangers chose to name, Satao.

He stood majestic, his strength so impressive.

Though most of the time pacific
when in musth he turned ballistic.
Moody and intoxicated with lust
from early dawn to dusk.

He became an icon of the wildlife reserve
one of the last true tuskers whose wits served
him well.

His tusks, reaching nearly the two metre mark
were of great value on the lured black market.

A lucrative trophy for heartless poachers.
Despite on a constant surveillance project
he fell victim of these cockroaches.

Wounded by a poison arrow
this wise old soul fell so someone on this planet
coud have a ivory trinket on his mantle made of granite.