Even kings wait

He was a lion in pieces, never a roar on the whole —

He hunted his souls on the breezes, but usually lapped from one bowl.

a Predator no one could challenge, but no malice shook out from his mane —

no fear when the warbirds dropped talons, his great honor negated all pain.

and so none of earth’s beasts dared face him, not even the two-legged kings.

for though teaming, the sum of creation, no other could growl what he sings.

Until one day at the sun’s rise, this king of beasts raised up his muzzle —

and there on the clouds, behind vapor shrouds, was more than a drink he could guzzle.

Up high on that hill, so lofty in Heaven, was the Singer who sang forth his roam —

and that’s when that tiger, so lofty on earth, in homage did turn forth to stone!


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