Old Lion felt his time was drawing near:
No longer fast enough to catch his kill,
Though strong and brave before, he now felt fear,
Humility, deference, catching a chill,
Unable to continue to fulfil
His lifelong leader’s role. Once the main mane,
Stood tall, now lying more, but truth’s not still.
Proud of his pride, but preyed on by the strain
Of reigning power that no beast can maintain,
Low in tall grass, the law that all revere
Sure to lay paws on him against his will,
When fierce young roars force old snores from the plain:
Old Lion’s dignity did not lie here.
Gold crown hung down, he veered towards the hill.
Sun 29 July 2007
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