I used to be happy. Those memories are pretty blurry now, but, like scars, engraved in my heart. And I will never forget that day…I was just a cub, running happily next to my mother and brothers with all the excitement someone discovering the world can have, in the green tall grass, under the clear blue sky and through the hot dry air. I was learning about my nature and discovering my instincts. But the process ended in a blink of an eye…
After that day, I can only remember steel bars and depressed creatures around me. Humans thought that being so young, this zoo will rapidly become my home and I will adapt, being playful and entertaining for the visitors. I adapted, sure, physically, as I never grew up to be one of those healthy lions with shiny fur or nicely developed muscles. My eyes were always calm and I rarely new anger in here, because the sadness in my heart never left room for any other feelings. I adapted, waiting patiently, to be fed with a piece of smelly meet. I learned to control my thirst until I could receive some fresh water.
I was told that lions are kings, but this world has proven differently. I am just a prisoner. My soul is trapped between two worlds: one that I can never forget and one that I can never escape from. I’ve been told that this is home, but how can these brainless beings call “home” a place that takes away the most important thing one can have…After so many years, ironically, being in such a small place, I have learned a lot. I have learned that when others can harm you, anger won’t help. That will only starve you. I have learned that being calm and gentle might make them give you treats. And I have learned that I hate it when they come in packs, point at me and flash that strong light in my eyes, to have a “memory”.
They usually come with their babies and are very noisy and excited. But from time to time, it happens to see one male or female human, alone, staring and trying to communicate with me. And I sense the sadness and despair in their voices, trying to ease their souls to someone like me…a poor fallen king. And then I sense fear of their own world, of their own failures and mistakes. And those are the moments that should please me the most, by taking an unfair revenge of those who put me here…But I feel pity and frustration, and I wish I could scream and tell them what fools they are. Humans, nothing is impossible for you! You have the most valuable and precious thing in this world…You have your freedom! You have friends and families, you have where to run wild if you want to. But these people I’ve seen made me think that they were the real captives, captives of their own fears and suspicions.
Feeling unable to make them see the reality, I acted friendly, at least to let them know that I understand… I have no other means of being nice to trapped souls, but humans can help each other see the light, not the darkness. And I wish I could tell humans that true friends in life are not the ones who say that they understand…but the ones who shout at you, angrily, to get up and fight…and to cherish your freedom, because freedom is like a magical tree, with new branches and leaves every day…but be careful not to cut the roots.
I am old now. I don’t know how old. I can barely move anymore and I stopped seeing the flashes of the “memories” taken by people. But my soul is running free like in that far away day… And I wish I could have that just one more time… I could have never guessed that it will become just a faint memory… There are so many things I would have done, if I only knew…
