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The Lioness
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The Lioness

Poem By Evan Skora

You expected me to write my story
Without giving me a pen,
Let the child ween in a cave
She cried,
Give her the creed
And cash it in when she's died

Well Momma I got a tale
A tale to shred
Born from brimstone fears
Good and dead

The lioness she bears a name
Burning lava
Red fire brain,
She stalks in the night,
For the one who might
Free her banner high

High to the sky,
Wave it high
Wave it high

Here she comes,
The lion of old
Coming to claim her place
Sit atop that golden throne.
Run Momma run
Run Momma run
Your day is done

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