184. If I Were A Lion


If I were a lion, wild
A man-eater born
Eyes hard, nails filed
Standing on a deer horn

From the Lord’s lap
I descend on earth
Laying a grave trap
His message on girth

Awaiting, since long
On my silent step
Reading human wrong
On vigil, to intercept

From virtue’s den I come
To judge insanity by men
By the skyline’s wisdom
For ill deeds, an evil omen

Here I stand with eyes of stone
Looking down upon world below
For long to cherish a human bone
Dead by wars, blood, hatred I know

In bigotry, life in penury, starvation
Whither has man reached on earth
Killing himself in bipolar sensation
A regret ironical as he grows from birth

My claws firm in this lost glory
Pondering on a humanity wounded
In my deep eyes, I see a story
Of human sorrow, injustice unsaid

As I weighed in keen measure
An emptied earth, devastated
Broken apart by human pressure
My taste of hunger stays bated

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