King (a bad poem about lions, which I have now found out are actually fantastically lazy. It's the lionesses that do the hunting. Anyway...)

I sleep when I am tired And eat when I am hungry.

Protected by Bast, We are feared throughout the land as brutal killers. Only Time falters our perfect bodies; We are invincible to all but hunger.

Easily outpacing the plain grazers As they attempt to outrun me, I deal a fatal blow And reduce it to meat and bones.

Sleek, stealthy, swift, Severe, deliberate, powerful,

We are the natural predators of this world. There are none to challenge us. We are the masters, and I their King.

Red-muzzled and satisfied, I allow the pride to eat their fill. The smell generated by the heat attracts others And soon that little left by us is gone. There is no malice in our actions, Only duty, honour and survival.