Sta.sh
It began with the lion, or perhaps it had not.
In other cultures it was the Wolf, or perhaps the Serpent; possibly even the Shark.
Some entered the sorrowful gullet of the Raven, and the scavenging beak of the Vulture.
But no, that was suicide. They knew not that had fed the, "Lion."
Than again, they are at no fault, the Lion devours what it can.
I associate this beast moreover than others, but I do not recognize the relationship as hunter-and prey.
Nor the equilibrium between why it allows us to feed it,
and when it saviors it's meal.
All it knows, is to simply raise its salivating lips, and to retract its talons, impatiently flickering its tail.
The rationale of why, is simply said as it has been repeated.
The Lion knows when it is to be nourished.
Growing so fond of each meal, why should it change it's ways after all?
Humanity and transgression have been relatives. Humanity and love as well.
But do not brother and sister feud?
Does not man or women unknowingly worship either side?
Some know, others fall victim too false merit; while the remaining few are unaware.
Frankly, despite their choosing they, (we) all have fed the Lion.
When young-blood looks to old-blood tugging on his jacket, and they look away. Feed it too the Lion.
When the sanctity of ones values are defaced and dethroned, beheading a king. Feed it too the Lion.
When throat is met with sharp tongue, leading to a sharper sword. Feed it too the Lion.
When Idols cast down and ridiculed, making room for theirs. Feed it too the Lion.
When misery and hate pool in one, filling our lungs. Feed it too the Lion.
What ever the chosen meal, the Lion will consume.
Any arm or wrist bruised against the will of the lasso of sin, shall be dragged to the maw.
After all it is insatiable isn't it?
But I will admit.
I fear the day when the next man or women goes to feed the lion,
and it says, "I'm not hungry."
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