Painful Catalyst

It scrambled and cried, lost and tired. The ant was terrified, limbs torn and body petrified. Above it stood a lion, ant out of moral iron. Weakened by the sight of something stronger, no way to get back any power. A paw came down to crush, blood spilt very much. After the beating it lie, feeling too pathetic to try. It took a while, a little thought and guile. The ant had enough, life shouldn’t be so tough. One torn leg grew longer, three others were granted the same honour. Its body stretched, pain burning wretched. After it was over, the ant looked closer. Reflection is honest, leaving it astonished. The ant was no longer an ant, it had become more grand. Newfound courage loud like a siren, the poor little ant had become a lion.