The old lion regally sat on the high rock enjoying the African sun,
Its heat easing the aches his body had accumulated
From all the fighting and killing that he had done.
No longer the dominant male guarding a pride,
From the young new leaders he now has to run and hide.
This lion had for years lived as the king of beasts,
Ferociously protecting his pride of females from all attacks,
Siring numerous cubs, he had lived the good life for awhile at least.
It would have been a shame if, while in his prime,
Fate had denied him his destiny for this time.
Now the lion has lost his place as pride leader.
His old body no longer superior to the strength of youth,
His last battle for position left him the beaten bleeder.
Unlike man, the lion calmly accepts his fate without complaining.
Cursing no god, nothing else for his downfall is he blaming.
The lion must now live the lonely life of a nomad.
No longer will he feast on prey that his lionesses provide,
And with his old body most of his hunting attempts will be bad.
His life has entered the period for him to decline and die.
The lion simply follows his instincts, never wondering why.
Thoughts of death concern him not, its worry never entering his day.
Instead, he sees in the far distance a cheetah make a kill.
Knowing there is a meal to steal, he simply gets up and lopes away.