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
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