The Old Lion

 With drool slowly dripping from his massive jowls, mixing with blood from the deep claw marks across his nose, the once mighty male lion limped from the series of pain wracking his body. 

Once mighty.... Once. No longer. 

His body is broken, and his strength is sapped. His spirit is as battered as his body, and there are scars within that will never heal. While the adrenaline pushes him forward, the blood loss will hit him as hard as the shock will once the raw adrenaline wears off. His ribs are not the only bones broken. Given time these wounds will heal.

He doesn't have time. 

Age caught up to him, and took a very proud male only to reduce it to dust, as is the nature of things. From the Earth we are created, and once the soul departs the body then the Earth reclaims the body. Even the mightiest lion, or any other apex predator is no different than the meekest of the smallest creatures. For such is the way of things. From dust we are born, and to dust we return when we die. Age is the universal balance in life. For the King of the jungle, however, death comes with violence,  pain, and loss... so much loss....

.....as he crawls forward to nowhere in particular, it's not the destination that matters; just moving forward feels better than sitting still licking the deep jagged wounds all over his body. No, because sitting means the anguish returns with all the memories plus the loss. For the old King this includes knowing all his children are dead, as well as,  his harem of females now belongs to another.  His pride? Gone. Hunting grounds?  No, they are no longer his. Neither is the breeding rights to any females he might happen to encounter. Everything and everyone is gone. Gone, in the blink of an eye. He went from having it all, to nothing. Plus he's seriously injured, and given time his physical wounds would heal, but that requires food and rest. 

That's another issue; food. While his bigger stature means helping take down bigger prey, it's always been the females that did the ambushing and chasing. Males are built for brute strength, and can't chase fast prey. Even without his wounds he would be hard pressed to catch enough to eat to live. He would be expending more calories than obtaining from any unlucky meals.

Without the security of the family the old lion has nothing more to do except wait for a lonely, painful ending. In his youth he was magnificent, and kept watch over a growing number of children. Family was everything.  Then one he lost it all.

Age slowed him, and he was unable to bring his might to bear. The younger male lion merely outpaced him. Just like he had once done to his predecessor, he was exiled. Chased out, because he could no longer be what he needed to be. As is the nature of things. 

With no food source and in no shape to fight for water, the old male finally lays down. His heart is breaking as the weight of the loss hits him. He snorts in irritated frustration, but it comes with a whine from pain. The physical pain is nearly overwhelming,  but it's the emotional damage that hurts the most. 

With a flinch in an attempt to reposition him self, and one last heavy sigh he gives up,

The vultures were already at the lion's carcass before the next morning.

The fact remains, old male lions are no different than human men. We grow up sheltered by our families, hit our prime, challenge other males and woo the females, have a few cubs, and then one day suddenly lose it all....

.....nothing ever stays the same. However for men and women the end is usually very different.  Women are sheltered right up to the end, while men wind up like an old lion past his prime; without family, loss of friends,  belongings gone, and only bitter sweet, painful memories to comfort them when they rest from the physical pain. Again!, I'm speaking of generalities,  not the individual exception to the rule. Men wind up shuffled out of the family unit, while women have stability until the moment they die.

Dying alone, no one notices until the vultures start circling. Just a mere husk of who the man once was, and many have some physical damage from drugs and alcohol. 

Trying to silence the demons most turn to substance use. Getting high or drunk allows for a chance to forget, even if it's only for a little while..... Even though it leaves real scars. A lion just digs a literal hole in the ground, and lays down in it waiting to die. Same, but different.

His body is broken, and his strength is sapped. His spirit is as broken as his body, and there are scars within that will never heal. The raw adrenaline wears off with time, however, being forced to constantly live in "Survival  mode" doesn't allow the physical and emotional damage time for these wounds to heal.

He doesn't have time. 

There is no happy ending., the storybooks never tell this part of the king's reign.  Is it fear? Protecting children from the truth?  Lying to ourselves enough to believe the lies? What reasons do we have to be able to ignore this harsh truth? Is it sexist? 

It is indeed sexist. But! That too is the way of things.  Both sexes share a role in the family, and there are two different endings depending on your gender. For the females they find themselves taken care of until the end, while the males die violently alone. 

Without the security of the family the old man has nothing more to do except wait for a lonely, painful ending. In his youth he was magnificent, and kept watch over a growing number of children. Family was everything. Then one he lost it all. His heart is breaking as the weight of the loss hits him. He snorts in irritated frustration, but it comes with a whine from pain. The physical pain is nearly overwhelming,  but it's the emotional damage that hurts the most. And he's out of time.

When you dig your own grave there's no one to cover you up once you die. The vultures swarm in to get everything they can,  while the family doesn't notice......

.....for such is the nature of things.