The Mantis

The Mantis

I saw a Mantis pray tonight;
clinging to the bricks of captivity,
in fear of a passing shadow,
so close in threatened proximity.

Alone he makes his stance,
under the bright overhead light.
ready to fight as I pass;
in his courage and his fright.

Bright green armor bristles,
a predator of the sick and weak.
In precarious pose he watches;
for increasing signs of the meek.

Freedom is but a short flight
over gleaming blades of razor wire.
Devoured by his loving mate
at the end of passion and desire.

His courage keeps him safe
in one more lonely captive plight.
I pondered his tenacity
as he prayed silently in the night.

© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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