Weak thin hands,
they trembled
Those twig like fingers fumbled
Cold cruel wind, it slashed
Unseeing bruises on that hungry face
The lion rumbled inside
the acidic belly,
But was soon put to silence
by a cold wet rag.
Hopeless & tired,
pair of white& black
Appeared and disappeared ,
As if in rhythm,
A rhythm that matched a zombie's troll.
The throbbing went on , from the scars
Caused by the claws of the lion ,
Where it slept now,
Guess even the lion gets tired.