A poem about how a lion finds acceptance among his peers by getting his final kill.
Searching for the victim to be
Hearing the quiet, rumors being spilled
See the resistance being killed
Wanting the blood from any kill
The moments come, my heart stands still
The herd below watches the black cat above
Soar through the air like that of a dove
This omen of impeding pain
May my herd’s efforts not be in vain
As the sun sets I take my meal
My day will come, my final kill
The night consumed my power and will
A nebulous feeling doubted my kill
I wanted respect in so many ways
Shortcomings followed in coming days
I needed to hone and sharpen my skills
So I’d achieve one of my many kills
Noon approached as I would stand and wait
The next few moments would choose my fate
This moment consumed my power, every ounce
I sharpened my claws and went to pounce
They hit the ground with increasing force
Time had chosen a steady course
My spirit reborn was a wonderful prize
I had a glare of joy in my eyes
I achieved a feat only possible with will
I had my trophy, my final kill
Poetry by Coolaaron88
Read 640 times
Written on 2007-07-23 at 03:44
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My Achievement
Paws grip the sitting treeSearching for the victim to be
Hearing the quiet, rumors being spilled
See the resistance being killed
Wanting the blood from any kill
The moments come, my heart stands still
The herd below watches the black cat above
Soar through the air like that of a dove
This omen of impeding pain
May my herd’s efforts not be in vain
As the sun sets I take my meal
My day will come, my final kill
The night consumed my power and will
A nebulous feeling doubted my kill
I wanted respect in so many ways
Shortcomings followed in coming days
I needed to hone and sharpen my skills
So I’d achieve one of my many kills
Noon approached as I would stand and wait
The next few moments would choose my fate
This moment consumed my power, every ounce
I sharpened my claws and went to pounce
They hit the ground with increasing force
Time had chosen a steady course
My spirit reborn was a wonderful prize
I had a glare of joy in my eyes
I achieved a feat only possible with will
I had my trophy, my final kill
Poetry by Coolaaron88
Read 640 times
Written on 2007-07-23 at 03:44
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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