Do not fear the lion breath. Let your cheeks sting with the power of it, let the tears drip from your eyes as the cold whips across your face. Feel it rush across your bare arms and legs, across your torso, your soul. Breathe it in, deeply, the salt burning as it surges into your lungs, slowly spreading throughout your body, filling every empty space.
Do not fear the lion breath. As you look into the deep dark mouth of the beast, white froth swirling on its surface. Do not flinch when its echoing roars crash upon the shoreline, breaking against shattered but smooth pieces of earth. Instead, listen closer for the purring it makes as it recedes back into itself, pulling at your toes, urging you to follow.
Do not fear the lion breath. Jump into the mouth of the beast, let the cold rush over your head, feel the waves at their birth below the surface. Let it wrap its overwhelming power around your arms and legs, around your torso, your soul. Let it into your mind, replace your thoughts, memories, everything you’ve known to be real. Replace it all with cold truth. Reset your mind the way we do clocks after the power fails us and we are left in the dark. Shock your heat into beating a new rhythm, in time with the crashing of waves and the roaring of beasts.
So do not fear the lion breath. Feel the sting strike your skin, hear the roaring song, smell the salty spray. If it rips the tears from your eyes, let them mix with the sea water which drips from your hair, rivulets rolling off your body. Let the salt drip down your arms and legs, down your torso, your soul. Leave behind you a puddle, shed like the skin of a snake. Sit beside the roaring beast, new, heart beating in time with the waves, breathing with the wind.