A sunny day and a hungry lion,
In his eyes a deer and on his tongue its breath
The lion chases it, through the crowd, strikes and chokes
What is luck and when was there ever a chance?
The deer's eyes on its mother, wanting, hoping, still endearing.
Life is taken first, through the eyes it goes, to the herd
Life wishes for it to be seen, from its friends, to be heard
And then it slowly dies, gives up, on all the made-up lies
It thinks, gains, lives, dies, and finally from all that is dead, it flies
New birth in the same world, life and death, just another word.
The skin is removed next, stripped and torn like fragile lace
Life does not reach life, it is on its own, every time, every life
The growling stomach sees the red and signals white,
It's always the win that matters, and never the fight,
Life feeds on the dead, it all seems clear now, but is it right?
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 8:47 AM UTC
A sunny day and a hungry lion,
In his eyes a deer and on his tongue its breath
The lion chases it, through the crowd, strikes and chokes
What is luck and when was there ever a chance?
The deer's eyes on its mother, wanting, hoping, still endearing.
Life is taken first, through the eyes it goes, to the herd
Life wishes for it to be seen, from its friends, to be heard
And then it slowly dies, gives up, on all the made-up lies
It thinks, gains, lives, dies, and finally from all that is dead, it flies
New birth in the same world, life and death, just another word.
The skin is removed next, stripped and torn like fragile lace
Life does not reach life, it is on its own, every time, every life
The growling stomach sees the red and signals white,
It's always the win that matters, and never the fight,
Life feeds on the dead, it all seems clear now, but is it right?