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Hunger to Survive

The lion lays quietly atop an overhanging hill.

He waits, watches in the vain fervor that his prey

Will come to him in deadly night like a diet pill

That will stop his hunger and permit his teeth to stay

Sharp, glistening white, creating a shiver of fear

Of their ferocity and ability to tear apart an arm,

Or important extremities that flash their spear

Of speed trying to outrun the King.

The atmosphere of fear is so authentic

That i can feel the lion’s eyes shifting silently,

Watching guardedly, waiting patiently to pounce happily

On his unsuspecting prey.

His jaws are cave like

In their imposing strength and bite force.

Never fear the lion, for you know he attacks

To survive not for pleasure.

Fear those who appear like sheep, but are

More serpent or fox, for their poisons

Attack the soul and destroy lives as if doing a favor.

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