The Lioness
Two women enter the circle to fight
Neither right; neither wrong
The tension builds across the field
As they wait to hear the gong
The spirit within them, none can match
The violence within them, about to hatch
One tall, one small, they battle for the pleasure of all
Who come to see them, pure and strong
As they await the song of the gong
And I sit and watch them, with tears in my eyes
For the fighter in me can no longer rise
How I long for one more shot, one more prize
But the fighter in me has long since died
I was a fighter pure and strong,
Now I do not know where I belong
I watch them fight and sing my song
Of a time when it was I who answered the gong
I was six feet tall with flowing red hair
Emerald green eyes and a deadly stare
These girls of today would not have dared
Face me in my prime; they would be too scared
I fought in India and I fought in Poland too
I won battles from Berlin to Timbuktu
I’ve made love to princes, princesses and queens,
But those memories are meaningless now, it seems
Oh how I miss the fury of the fight
To kick to the belly, the left hook and the right
If not for one moment that brought on my plight
I’d be in that circle for the main event tonight
I had a killer right hand
And a signature body slam
I was truly the best
They called me The Lioness
And I punished my opponents
Had them sobbing and crying
I didn’t care when the crowd booed
They wanted to see me beaten, but I kept on defying
I never cared about the insults from the crowd
But when no one is around to see me now
I long to hear them shout
Anything is better than this feeling of drought
Twenty years ago when I turned forty years old
A girl named Ava strolled into my room and she told me
She wanted to fight me for all of my titles
I laughed at her; she was short and had the face of a child
Her body, however was fit for a girl of only 5’6”
And when we fought, she was full of tricks
Breasts squeezing, belly clawing, cxnt mauling “techniques”
She kept me off guard; she kept getting me wet and getting me weak
But I hadn’t realized she was getting me beat
A knee to my belly, and she forced my retreat
I could not keep up with Ava’s persistence
After a combination to my face and another knee to the gut
I hardly had any resistance
She beat me that night fair and square
The humiliation made me never dare
To set foot in a circle again, my friend
For another five years, and I gave in again
I became a loser, boozer and drug abuser
I was once a winner; but I couldn’t even beat the beginners
When once people would come to see my signature slam
Now, they see me and don’t know who I am
What is a writer without those of his work who will read
What is a hero without those who in her will believe
What is a fighter with no one to tell her story
An empty world for this empty girl now gray
Living this life, so boring
Waiting for death, this life, I’m so tired of touring…
FIN
