Lying in the Sun,
There`s the Lion whose
Portrait has never been conquered.
The whole of the savannah is
A metrigold playground of
Still winds, dry roars and slow rain
For hunters and prey.
Lion. Beauty. First blood.
Play. Pray. Unsay.
A self-consuming devotion
In a mahogany state of imprisonment.
The mesmerization of an entire civilization
One man will pick up the scent and
Begin to imagine climbing the
Waterfall of human desire.
Judging by the eyes of the Lion,
The man will find his way into
Many times ago
When freejumping didn’t need inventing.