I bow to you,
my Lion King
As you lie graceful and bare,
on the grass of Time,
with hand on heart,
you look to me
as I look to you,
do you see me?
To caress those spaces
in between words
and know
the very essence of a
soul...
Beauty behold,
this man
not carved from wood or stone,
but flesh and bone,
so fragile yet so bold.
Would your eyes be humbled
if they could,
for he still turns away at your gaze.
But stand full force to mine.
This mighty Lion King,
with Mother's eyes,
and Father's sky.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
I bow to you,
my Lion King
As you lie graceful and bare,
on the grass of Time,
with hand on heart,
you look to me
as I look to you,
do you see me?
To caress those spaces
in between words
and know
the very essence of a
soul...
Beauty behold,
this man
not carved from wood or stone,
but flesh and bone,
so fragile yet so bold.
Would your eyes be humbled
if they could,
for he still turns away at your gaze.
But stand full force to mine.
This mighty Lion King,
with Mother's eyes,
and Father's sky.
