I love the first verse @whoshim

At twenty, he stared
into the eyes of a tiger,
old and tired. Uncaring,
he hung it in his hunting hall.

I have been drawn to tigers in my imagination since an early age and often dream of them. So the imagery in your poem struck me quite profoundly. I like the way that it starts with this hunters act of destruction and ends with his final decline of old age. Ha ha, but maybe that's just me ;-) I feel more pity for the tiger than the guy in the poem