The Lioness' Mane Poem by BeWilling ToCha(lle) nge UrBeliefs

Regal, royal, romanticized as wise and loyal,
As the sheep's foil, the one with whom we toil;
Graceful, She treads o'er scorching sand and soil,
Sinning prey spot Her, nerves begin to a boil!

She knows who you are, who you'll come to be,
Will you flee, or stand as a tree, brave Her eyes to see?
She discards mere gestures, lifeless lines of loyalty,
Each action She measures, spurning faith's false fealty;

Your cowardice, your courage, your love, your hate,
Each act that emerges creates your free-will fate,
You can run, you can hide, but if by Love you won't abide,
You'll find you've died, Loneliness' lair where you reside;

Majestic, magical, power quite fantastical,
Master, pastor, protector from disaster,
In motion, Her mane, an awe inducing potion,
Those eyes, comprise the mountains and the ocean,
One look, your shook with every deep emotion,
Your fate, don't wait, spread Love—the golden notion.