Crippled King

There once was a king named Stanley
Some called him Stanley the Manley
A griffin born and valley raised
Among magical creatures, he’d spend all of his days
His heart was full of spirit
His mind believed it was right
That he ruled the land with all of his might
Eleven years he did live
One hundred lives he seemed to have
By the end of it all, he looked pretty bad.
One flight, he did soar, and injured his beak
It sat quite off and the keratin was weak
From then on to the end of his days
A beak trim was needed to keep bacteria away
Another year came a terrible infection
In the bone of a wing. It took serious intervention
He didn’t know if he’d ever survive
But life only cost his ability to fly
You’d think that would’ve lost him his crown
But Stanley was tough and also quite proud
Whenever a new griffin arrived in his kingdom
He stomped up and warned how they should greet him
His favorite activity was to bathe in the stream
Wet all of his feathers, they had to be clean
Yet each bath was a chance, roll of the dice
For hypothermia came, not once, but twice
His friends jumped in. Help they would get.
Thinking: “This is it. He’s a goner, I bet”
Somehow, Stanley made it outright
Staying alive out of nothing but spite
Special conditions meant to keep him out of trouble
He could watch his kingdom from his own little bubble
Then came the mites that attacked his skin
And his feet would blister, bruising within
Matted and worn was this crippled King,
With offset beak and limping wing
Physically broken was no way to live
But his spirit was strong, an inspiration to give
He walked through his kingdom on a warm sunny day.
And took a cool bath as his final say
While his friends all packed up the night
Stanley took to the sky, and if you listen just right
You’ll hear his spirit there on the wind
Giving a mighty cry as a new day begins
Off in the air on a winter’s sunset
The great king took his final rest