He does not fight, 

He does not roar,

He does not stampede 

or scream. 

 

He only lies, 

spent, 

As the crowd murmurs

“ooh,” “ah,”

 

Do they clap

For him? 

Or for God? 

 

I do not know. 

 

Just that today,

There will be no flowers waiting.

No meadow,

No shady, quiet grove

No care for a beast

 

Who wishes

Not to fight

Not to roar

Not to stampede

Or scream

 

Who wishes only, 

In his innocence, 

For humanity

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