The Lion's Weight Poem by Anastasia Rhobolonskaya

A lion lay sleeping on my heart
His bulk calling and kissing the ground
And for fear of what he might do
I resigned to make nary a sound

But the free dance of the gazelle called to my heart
Her pirouettes of ecstatic joy
Seemed a better fate to me
Than that great beast’s cruel ploy

Straining and bracing for what ever may come
I lever my scrawny strength against his roar
For I am determined to be rid of his curved claws
To return to that weight no more