Tears of a Lion

In the dusty desolate desert Where once life abundant and thriving Stands a solitary, starving young lion Weakened, diseased but still striving With tears in his crusty wise eyes And last glare of sober defiance At he who wrecked havoc and mayhem With technology and burgeoning science With man’s greed and arrogant needs He has plundered and pilfered and raped And stolen the essence of nature Rearranged, destroyed and reshaped For nothing exists in this barren wasteland Except dust, noxious gases and death For man has created this lion’s demise Nothing moves, nothing stirs, not a breath As he struggles to take his last bow And lowers his head to the ground Last sigh from the king of the jungle The end of all life and all sound