an ancient terror

a lion roaring in the sultry night
produces fears that we had long forgot
fears of inhabiting a tiny plot
of having a huge mouth as final sight
of dying first of a gigantic fright
and being left on the hot plain to rot
in some remote and swift-forgotten spot
an echo of some early mortal plight
who dares to struggle knows that he may lose
but still insists on facing down the foe
for honour's sake not for the noble strife
we place our feet in such a great one's shoes
driven by just an urge to feel and know
whatever purpose there might be in life