A Day for Lions Will Come Tiny lion laid so low Who cut your mane? Your glow ? The brain-land lost you and it your-self The savanna, once home, resembles a foreign land What seems hidden or to be a faceless authentic gesture is wayward imagine-hating that once was, which you used to telescope your way through to safety from the castaways of vines and fists. This crown of tassel you lost will grow again It will be your jewel, you, Your best of friends And love songs you hear, sing them for yourself, you are the love whose worth is waiting. Companions you lost drifting through the dust of the city and pharmaceuticals used by demons who take the souls of lions. Are now in their own generation, generating their continued demise. You, your highness, breathe slow, watch upon your hill, in silence, Learn how it turns, the land will be waiting, new allies take shape No talking is needed, for there is plenty of tomorrows upon tomorrows to a pick a friend. A dandelion. A day for Lions will come.
Posted on: Sun, 18 Aug 2013 06:31:45 +0000
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