The Lion

Filling up my broken jar

And patching up the cracks

Giving me so many hugs

And silly games like Jacks.


Listening to a child

Full with awful fear

Coming in when he’s alone

And staying very near.


Nightmares come and nightmares go

And sometimes they are real

Fears find flesh in modern form–

From ancient patterns steal.


Hope rides high upon your back

As you take the field

With all your glory in each stride

And weapons that you yield.


The little child does not despise

The fear that you inspire

For teddy-bears and friendly things

Are destined for the fire.


The child remembers lonely nights

And monsters fierce and grim

And knows he needs a warrior

To fight and kill for him.


He doesn’t hate the gentle things

And mercy heals his mind

But when the fear is at its worst

Blood will spill in time.


So let the Lion take the field

With sword and fire and hell

And let the world hide its face

And in fear and trembling tell.


Sing the battle with screams and cries

Let death and blood reign free

I will stand and take my place

For the Lion fights for me.


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