In the jungle, the torchlight cuts through the dark,
Armed with guns, to shoot on sight is the hunter's thrill
With greed and a high to capture and kill, the evil embark
Knowing exactly who and what they are going to kill.
The beast hears the intruder and sees death around the corner
She runs through the trees hoping that the hunters won't find her
The jungle silence is interrupted by sound of running feet through the stream
Darkness waits fearfully, waiting to hear death's scream
And as the beast runs for its life it cries for help into the night
The hunters stop, they smile as they sense the beast's fright
Cornered suddenly by a rock it cannot get over,
The beast sees death in the hunters who are now aiming at her.
And from behind the rock, came an old lady, dressed in white,
The hunters and the lady exchanged views, the hunters dispersed realizing what they were doing was not right.
The beast sighed in relief and howled at the lady in thanks giving
Something in her made evil man go, giving the beast a new beginning.
I know that I am a sinner, a beast of some sort
I have my untamed ways, but the hunter for sure I am not.
The preachers, leaders and politicians are the hunters of our time,
Hunting to exploit me taking away the love and freedom that is mine.
If I were tracked down again, they'll kill the live in me for sure I know.
That lady was Mother Teresa, and she is no more.
The hunters will hunt, they'll be nobody to put them to shame
Making the under privileged, helpless and poor, instruments in their game.