She roars, purrs and manages my anger.
Boiling at times even seething at my calmness of the situation
Her angers pushes against the bars of decency and expected behavior.
Eventually roaring becomes mumbling and pacing.
Soon there is peace then confidence. The Tiger joins me.
Or maybe I join her. Something soothes the beast.
Her beauty and strength have become essential to my survival.
I embrace her from the core of who I am.
I love the beast. When we wrestle I feel … so alive!
If she is quiet by my side, I feel peace in her heartbeat.
When I walk, roam, hunt or enter a meeting,
Her strength is my confidence.
There’s a Bengal Tiger beneath the surface.
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