A Lion that right now, doesn't have a pack.
A Lion that hunts alone. A Lion hunting alone in a vacant jungle.
But the lion is not in despair. It does not feel lonely.
It wasn't laid off, or lost it's pack. It left the pack. This Lion didn't want to be the King of the jungle. This Lion wants to be the King of it's own. An army of it's own.
He isn't a lounge lizard or a lunatic. He is living in loneliness. The linchpin of his loneliness isn't a loss of a lover or leftovers of a lousy liasion.
Once upon time, all the animals in the land loved the Lion. The Lion loved them too. But then it came to comprehend, in order to survive, it has to hunt and prey on the same animals. So the Lion decided to leave for the good of it's friends. But the other animals decided to percept the Lion; that he was arragont of being to good for this wilderness. The Lion kept walking.
Now he has found a solemn of his own. Although it fails to provide the similiar solace as before, nevertheless, the Lion fares to harvest the best out of it. He is new to this jungle, a bitter wilderness to his strong heart.
But as a born leader, the Lion is likely to limn and laud the will lift the spirits of the one who looks and listens to his lead. Never will the Lion fail the ones that loves and trusts him.
So why is the Lion lonely? The oddity of the Lion is legendary and the radiant literature of life is the Lion's livelihood. It is eternally loyal to the luminescence of the light. His labor is to enlighten it's current scenery with a lantern of his large and permanent, poetic, inspiring, semantic lonesome lament.
To live is to love, and to love is to live itself. And to love, is to land in the life of the lonely, untill love is all that lives, till loneliness is left with love alone. To be loved by love itself.
Leo will live.
it is nice :-)
ReplyDelete