Pride like a lion
when he’s fighting to keep it,
main losing color and dropping with age,
claws getting dull,
teeth losing shape,
knees aching from the miles.

Scars… big from all the fights,
all the battles,
all the nights out hunting,
and all the days gone hungry,
all his strength,
and all his might.

He watches as the sun is rising.

Laying down he lifts his nose,
sniffs the air,
and finds the scent.

He knows that someone’s near,
a rival king that’s threatening,
to take his pride… and take his life,
cast him into loneliness,
with nothing but the memories.

He knows he’ll have to fight,
and that this might just be the last time
he’ll ever face an enemy.

He stands and walks out slowly,
emerging from the trees.

He sees his opposite competitor
charging from the side.

And so he try’s to keep his feet,
but nature plays no favorites.

He’s been taken down, and bitten on the neck.

He struggles but it’s useless.

He thinks of all his triumphs,
roars and tries to rise,
but he can’t escape the bite.

So with one last dying notion… he opts to close he eyes

—– Lee St1—–


About Lee Stone -leest1-

The world is changing: Stand for Something. Soporte Para Algo. Independent Poet/Artist. Portland, OR ·
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