The Lion Roars No More
See how life and its wretchedness munch on us
The ulcer of longing and bonding
Widening at the cost of the flesh of time
Feeding on the treasure of memories closed intact
Is this the time to cry?
To sob and give up on those we love
Or do we
For the sake of not bleeding pretend that we don’t feel the pain
But hold back the information
Close, draw as we clean and treat these words
like non-existent
Not the bullet
Not a head-on
Not the enemy of man
But one within self
Behold
The lion is fallen,
The towering roar of this
land is silent
Not to scavenge
Nor tear down prey for a meal
The lion roared to the throne
But the roar is no more