Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Like a lion

A soul feeds on love like a lion with prey,
the fleshy part first then the gnawing on bone
until nothing remains but the feeding for free
on snippets and bits of memory recalls.

Two lions with prey

Then hunger awakes the once satisfied
in beg and plead for the essence of feel
and the lion arises, the birds disappear,
but the ground holds no trace, no smell,
for one who would stalk for sustenance.

There is shade from a tree grown older like me,
a river of need where the thirsty can drink
but this just a vision to the wild and untamed
and the lion walks on for a million days.

Head down with a mane thinning and grey
and a heart unspent haggard and bent
the lion lies down and gives up life rights
to the eating and eating and eating again.

And nobody sighs at the sight of that lion;
they did not know there was hunger inside
but a soul owns the deed to forever life rights
and cannot survive if the food has run out.

A soul feeds on love; didn’t you know
the fleshy part first before you must go?

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