Chapter Text
Why should I want to sing you odes of glory,
When your teeth break on my sides,
When your claws are blunt and your mane is a lie,
And none of that glory ever reaches your eye.
I pity the lion who can no longer hunt,
Whose wounded pride sticks a thorn in his heart,
Who tears strips of flesh from a carcass he never felled;
The lion who sneaks a look at my jaws, and wishes he could eat me instead.