The Hidden Violence Lurked (English Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

The hidden violence lurked, was right there,
waiting always waiting to come to the surface
and in Africa most people were totally unaware
until the blood flowed, until they had to face

the destruction, until a hungry lion rushed in;
on the tranquil river eyes were peeping
and this struggle no unarmed person could win
when razor sharp jaws were snapping

and yet a kind of beauty, a kind of innocence,
was always present and just waiting to appear,
even if cruelty did daily feelings incense
there was something without any kind of fear

that dwelt in the early morning beauty,
something that stayed great and forever free.