The Dying King
I'm lost
Damage from pain inflicted from
Arrows and spears through the heart.
A long journey
Coupled with years of tears,
Sorrow and insufferable torment.
I am a king
A lion,my roars move swiftly through the African pride lands.
I was made for power and protection.
But who will protect me?
Gods cursed me
As a lone warrior
Rooming from jungle to desert
To find my queen.
Villagers fear me
They spear me
Loud cries of a king but no one
Can hear me.
I feel death creeping up near me.
Nature hides me and guides me
To a lioness.
We touch noses gently to show acceptance
My eyes her eyes gaze at the sunset
Thinking this day I will never forget.
There is an untold voyage
A plagued odyssey
No cubs was birth at the
End of the prophecy.
Others have procreated successfully
No genes passed
I guess that's just destiny.
A roar once loud proud strong and stern
Has turned into nothing more than a whisper in the air.
A great kings death without a living heir.
Copyright © Michael Pickings | Year Posted 2014
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