Lion

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lion

I almost made the mistake,
Of paying tribute to Blake.
Praise is due to great men,
More so though to the Lyen.

Yet I follow seven count,
Precisely William's amount,
Ignoring the title beast,
That stalks the gold grass to feast.

Inside each heart lurks a thing,
That would call the Lyen King,
To the fang wholly loyal
Offering flesh to the royal.

Could all the animals here,
Simply symbolize our fear?
Roar and pounce without a soul,
So poets may design a role.

I praise the cat and the pride
View myself as an aside,
The wild not symbolically,
It does not start or end with me.