Performing A Lion and an African at the Embargo

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A Lion and an African

The sun, fierce and brutal pounds down hard on the African plains
The land is dry and dusty through this season without rain
I look back to spy my guest who stepped so boldly as he came
The lean African follows brazenly on this blistering African plain

His name is Ungala and Ive caught his scent before
On dark nights when his persistence chilled my being to the core
His dark skin is sun-beaten, his palms and feet a lighter tan
There is cunning in his eyes and a sharp blade in his hand
I know he wants to take my hide back to his home to be a man

My prized and precious hide, with its long and tangled mane
A symbol, well admired on these deadly African plains
It protects me when I lurk among the sharp and prickly leaves
And stands erect and threatening when I growl and bear my teeth
I turn and face Ungala. The African stops and stares at me

This boy, this adolescent, is almost half-crazed in his plan
Determination brought him to me. He will not leave with empty hands
The grisly paint he wears is now an almost frightening stain
His eyes emotionless reflect no fear, hesitance or pain
So we stand, ten feet apart, on this fiery African plain

I force myself not to lunge and rip his belly with my claws
And feed on his sweet flesh before his body begins to fall
I ease open my mouth to show the boy my feline fangs
And let out a warning growl to add excitement to this game
His grip on the sword tightens, but his expression does not change

Suddenly a fury rose in me. My aggression had no bounds
I was already in the air before I knew my paws had left the ground
I clamp my teeth into his throat, open my mouth and bite again
His blade slips between my ribs and pierces my precious heart within

Now as I lay on top of him, I feel the first swollen drops of rain
As the sun fades from the sky on this cool African plain




By Keith Walker

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