Takes Pride In His Work

She walks gingerly back to the pride, sensing something’s not right, Dropping her kill upon the grass, greeting party’s nowhere in sight, My cubs my beautiful cubs, calls them, but only silence echoes back, Smelling the air desperately, alas nascent scent it lacks, Confused she roars, pacing in circles, going round, over and over, Then sees a stranger on the tree line a bold menacing interloper, His mane bloodied, face heavily scarred, wearing triumphant gaze, No it’s not possible, where’s my king, our protector, father of my babes, In the distance recognizes her sisters, pacing back and forth, Making weird guttural noises, peculiar terrifying snorts, They meet up trying to reassure each other, realizing something has changed, Deep down aware, balance in the pride, has been savagely rearranged, Going into the trees, heads hung low, finding cubs torn to shreds, Licking and shoving them, still tepid, but all the babies are dead, Distressed lionesses roar, rage and disillusionment fills fiery eyes, After some time they walk away, it’s over, through absence of life and cries, Showdown in the open, killer awaits, knowing what must be done, Has to face the music, for his crimes, no backing down, he will not run, Huge and impressive, mane of matted blood, dripping in egregious sin, I’m your new master, will fight all to death, this pride needs a king, Unbelievably lioness becomes estrous, no sign of grudging hate, What’s gone is past, she needs new cubs, submissive prepares to mate, Mounting from behind he roars, jaws locked around her neck, Seed sprays between her loins, your sisters are getting some next. Now go out search the plains, bring back some worthy kill, I’m partial to them black and white ones, seen some leeside of yonder hills, Yes I’m making changes, turning this shambles into a home, Will rule with determination, your new king, accedes the throne, No morals to my story, other than nature can be cruel, Lets bygones be bygones, law of the jungle always rules, Who are we to judge them, we’re merely hanging on ourselves, But we’ve evolved choice, Lions just play the hand thats dealt. By David kavanagh