King Leo


I’m the last, hungry lion.

All the others have feasted and are taking their rest among the tall grass.

Still I run, hunting; chasing.

This most agile gazelle bounds away evermore, eluding my frothy bite.

I shall not give up, succomb to famine’s fate.

The gazelle will tire and I will harness the last of my reserves to pounce.

I will eat to go on.  Survive.  Thrive.

A feast awaits me.

I am the last, hungry lion.

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