Lion

prowling the plains
sharpening your claws
on the bones of your prey
roaring
just to hear yourself

slashing the air into ribbons
that haunt the fields from border to border
because this is your territory

gritty, fine, messy
this dirt between claws
is home
finds its way into your coat of iron
part of you, as much
as your killer call:
to hunt the inferior
exalt your alpha name
satiate your blood lust

earth, a crowd
dirt-streaked horizon worn
by brassy grass, a dust bowl
swallowing your name
look up
and see the minted tracks
running transverse
through the plane of your life

dark angels rip back the curtains
hemmed with razor blades
tainted wings of larceny

ah, dear azrael
claws of metal
clothed in skeletons
iron lives bent unto its will

so you rage
bare your fangs
slash and rip
at that diamond belly

if only the killer call claimed you stronger
if only you had enough hearts in your chest
enough brains in your head
you could kill it
you could hunt it down
you could lick its blood
but

how can you fight something you cannot see?

glass, a waterfall
between you and your prey
your body slams against invisibility
solid air

the only thing that dies
that bleeds
that lies crying
and suffocating
and suffering
is you

this monster
that holds you back
is something you cannot fight

claws worn down to
little stubs
fear
and rage
scritch across the surface
of impenetrable ice
bones crushed beneath
rubber wheels
plastic parts
stainless steel
smashed
until your skin holds only the
smoke
of what once fueled you

teeth tucked behind
lips bleeding and battered
chest heaving with unshed anger
your body
flecked with sweat and blood
smeared with dirt
lungs heavy

you are dust

feral creature, you have raged enough
the fighting draws to a close
anger simmers down
fear
helplessness
acceptance
and, finally
submission

so you submit, king of the jungle?
so you surrender, grim reaper?

struggle on buckling knees
reduced to your fleshly state
bared in your infancy
fire inside burns hotter than the furnace
rages beyond its capacity
some of you has fallen away
ashes
borne on a fickle wind

the part of you that is predator
that part that will not submit
that will not die
is a traitor
lest you fight
against—

Resist, thou fated rebel!
Storm, storm, against the waning light!
God forbid you give up without a fight!
For if not of iron you are made
Forever forgotten shall be your name

a transparent barricade
stands between
you and your nature
something lacks from you
something’s added to you
you
are
something
that you weren’t before

defenseless

claws
blunt ends
not of a hunter
paws
velveted
not of a killer
body broken
reduced to a heart beating
in time with the shifts of the universe
masterpiece
reflection of a Master

so lie down these vain bones
lie down this arrogant heart
lie down, you lion king

lie before the graceful fault line of a border
between who you are and
once you were

spread out your body
like a prayer rug
unfurled before the King
waiting to be
knelt upon

in your taming, see truth

in this helplessnes, find hope