If Life Was Like a Poem

Lonely Lion

Beautiful, majestic with mane of gold
Cries out each morning with might and power,
Horrible warning, which terror behold
King of Jungle returns to hunt each hour
A king and a killer all twined in one
The great Life deciding which trait reign true
For it's too late now to change what's been done,
The lion grows weak: his life almost through
Constantly hunting, without cubs or mate
No time to give purr, no time to receive
Because of his fault, he will meet Sin's fate,
For a life without it, is to deceive
Now, lion lies dead; no heart in his soul
Just one piece missing; never to be whole