Edges carved like a crescent blade,
Skin glowing under twilight shade.
Broad snout with sunken eyes,
Deep and murky — a clear disguise.
Teeth like daggers, tiny but tight,
A silent hunter, built to fight.
It feels the pulse, it smells the same,
Rarely seen, yet bears the fame.
No stripes, no spots, nor size to boast,
Its dorsal fin, firm as a ghost.
Slicing through waves, away from sight —
A shadow, a myth, ready to bite.