I was a cub, when I was born
Playing in the field, apathetic of thorn
Having those moments of joy and laughter
Ignorant of assassins,
Poaching without the knowledge of master
It was not me, it was the glory that they were after

They came with spears and rifle
Thought they could eat me as a trifle
I wasn’t ready to get beaten up yet
Whatever I had, I've thrown in my survival bet

They pushed me down in Abyss
I felt death upon me, with a gentle kiss
They rejoiced with laughter and thought they won
I survived in dark in spite fear and no dawn

Then I started to walk down in memory lane
Those moments of joy, struggle and pain
I was scarred, bruised thus became bane

Later I returned and it was a disaster for them
Now I was a Lion whom they couldn’t tame
It was the war and death was in full swing
Now it was the cub who won,
And became the Lion King.




© toddler