1 min read

To receive any new poems I write via email, please click here


The scene was set.

I knew how it would play out.

The red mist descended.

The lions closed in.

Vultures hovered overhead, confirming what I already knew.


Then it happened.

Terror. Pain. Blood.

They gorged on the carcass, and felt better.

Their hunger sated, they could rest again for a while.


I knew how it would play out.

I knew they were coming.

I smelt their rage from miles away.

I could have warned the creature.

I had the power to stop it.

But I held back.

I sympathised with the lions - they were hungry after all.


To receive any new poems I write via email, please click here

Comments
* The email will not be published on the website.