Cradle The Lion's Grave - Poem by Norman F. Santos

The meandering Lion, impaired by a trance
Of feral instincts and hedonistic impetus
Torn to avert or succumb his fated tragedy
But only festoons the lion’s unwritten fable
Ensconced by the eaves of pure enigma
Slithering the ornate tangling forlorn forest
Whilst the Moon stroke the fiery wisps
Of his cynical golden tresses and bastion
Grazing on his poignancy to submission
And scintillating a cordial theme park
Clandestine with a selfish feisty carnival
From the Lion’s lacerations that stalls
Upon the labyrinthine forest’s walls.