"There, but for the grace..."

Furiously, a solitary gazelle bounds across the plain,
a rogue jackal in close pursuit, his mouth watering.
At first, the gazelle clings to the notion of escape.
She visualizes her life continuing beyond turmoil.
But, the jackal is relentlessly cold and calculated.
She begins to feel the weight, the dust of reality.
Her lust for life diminishes with her slowing pace.
From his vantage downwind, in the shaded scrub,
a lion king stretches, relaxing post meal, watching.
Having been satiated, this chase is entertainment.
For some reason, unknown even to our hero king,
the gazelle stirs a compassion in his weary heart.
He begins to grasp that she will not survive without
divine intervention, intuitively perceiving her needs.
He rises, an awareness of his presence is inescapable
as he issues forth a deep growl, followed very closely
by a roar that startles himself more so than the others.
He charges the pursuer & pursued with a vengeance.
A cloud of dust, like the smoke of a smoldering fire,
or the burning embers of a spent galactic Supernova,
engulf the trio, temporarily shielding the final outcome.
Oddly enough, against all reason, the three walk away.
One silently, with no regret, yet no real beating heart.
The other two slowly embark on a magnificent journey,
where the exact polar opposites only and ever attract.