lion

lets walk
with the
lion

through black
rugged hills

as it hunts
the center
of the earth

we will be
as strangers
if we follow
the lion

there will
be glad tidings
to the strangers
that cast aside
their flesh and
the cloudy brews
of fermented
wheat and the
dusty sap of
tilted trees

we will throw
grit to the bonfires
that call us back
to those things
we would rather
leave behind

and take up
our arms to
bleach the temples

to storm the old
gods of clay

lets trust
the lion

sure there
will be winds
so scouring
that our cheeks
will flake

and pits
so deep that
we may hear
the old mother
of monsters
whispering
her promises

and mirages
that will haunt us
on dark red days
when the sun
seems final

but victory
is with the
lion

lets trust
the lion

lets be strangers
to the kingdoms

and walk
with the
lion