His sovereignty captive
Legs for striding across grasslands
Now feeble and withered
Roam in circles along moats and fences
The grand mane dark with age
Was it swept in the savannah gales?
His eyes clouded as he walks charily
Was ever his gaze locked in
On unsuspecting prey as he coiled in the stalks ?
The thrill of his hunt stolen
Endless wilds beyond the horizon
Were his kingdom
Handfuls of his cousins live still in their pristine majesty
He knows nothing of it
A stranger to himself
Now, after a floundering, scarred life
He awaits an unworthy death
As shutters and flashes surround
his decorated prison
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