Poetry

Savannah

The lion lies
In hopes someday
It will grow wise
The lion dies
But the lion will again
Rise
Sunset dreams
Prior to
Midnight screams
Anger gleams
Through mellow
River streams
Here comes
The tidal wave
From the deepest
ocean cave
To wash the predators
To the grave
But the victims
It will save
Night arrives
The eagle dives
To catch it’s prey
To stay alive
In three hours
Past five
The winds blows
Savannah
Grass grows
The lion lies low
For the lion
Knows
If it waits
And plays a game
Of dead
That night
It will not
Go hungry to bed
**
It will come
victorious
Instead

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