A Lion Looms Listless

A cold lion roams, doctrinaire and sterile, The expanse of Africa offers him no sanctuary, the Saringehti no salvation, He can only smell the scent of his pride now, his cubs shun him, Repelled by needless roars, the revolting rants, Tail tattered, biten by jackels at will, His nose bit and beaten from battles better avoided, Soul tethered to a label, only a title, "King of the Jungle" , Fleas and insects of all sorts find haven in his muddy mane once so puffed and wide like a thunderhead trampling over Tanzania, I hear him in the twilight, lonely, unsated and undesired, Paranoid about a life that does not seem to love him, His heart became a desserted Athens, a broken, rigid column slumped on the earth, He wanders near the Nile, nearsighted and nervous As an Egyptian boy of ancient lineage stalks him sensitively Putting the speartip to his temple saying, I see your ribs, your broken paws, your futility, I will now deliver your soul unto the cool night, The spear is launched with a certain bloodlust piercing behind the shoulder blade, his heart hollers with the cry of scarred suprise, the lion stumbles and pants vanity no allowing blame for lack of vigilance, the boy trots to the spot, kneels in token reverence telling him, sip the black puddle of your error, as eyes fold ever shallow, let me feed you these apples of arrogance so to quiet your grievence, to sooth your ego before final sight, there is no shame in being slain by a Pharoah King, old lion, I shall wear your teeth as a timeless trophy of tragedy, Emblematical of Pride gone on too long, may the spirit of Herodetous teach this lesson to a new breed - J.A.B.