The Lion King Poem by Denis Martindale

Two lions fought beneath the sun...
Their teeth as sharp as nails
And when their fight was truly done,
One lion tipped the scales.
The other lion fled the scene
And no more would return.
Though savage, wounded, no more keen
The mightier to learn.
The undefeated lion stood
And watched the loser leave.
He didn't think himself as good
And yet he didn't grieve.
This was their way for centuries,
Their ancient remedy.
Their battles for supremecies
Would end each mystery.
They'd never choose alternatives,
Their code they'd never flout.
No matter if one dies, one lives...
They'd fight to end the doubt.
Thus courage burns within their veins...
Volcanoes borne of rage.
Only the winner truly gains
The right to centre stage.
In truth, the winner takes it all.
The loser has no pride.
Although once mighty, doomed to fall,
Then to be cast aside.
Two lions fought beneath the sun...
For them, it was too late,
For soon, there'd only be the one
Who'd live to celebrate.
Each battle scar that's brought to mind,
Reminds him of this day...
The courage he was forced to find...
The price he had to pay...


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Lion King'.