by
Cheryll Roche
copyright 1994
From the jungle's dark depths
Monarch moved by quiet, sure steps;
Man-thing could sense he was near.
Every move a ballet,
Great strength would hold sway
As he steadily trod ever here.
Man-thing might run.
Man-thing might fight.
Monarch really didn't care.
Come as a friend
Or here it will end,
For the tusker is true monarch here.
(Background art by Boris Vallejo)