Lions three circle a field of gold and green;
Quietly padding in line.
In the circle there stands a man tall and lean;
Smiling and biding his time.
Eyes close as he breathes out a centering sigh;
To no will save his own is he bound.
Sounds of dark shadows whisper low and draw nigh;
He then silently kneels to the ground.
He waits as the predator comes close to his pride;
Never one to give ground in a fight.
This battle though can only be done on the far side;
Of a veil that splits the world day and night.
He slips to the shadows with a laugh and a yell;
No fear in his heart is there housed.
Howls from the dark and sparks from his sword tell
This sleeping lion should not have been roused.
The melody still carries
of a song that’s half sung
Memories still linger
of a life only half done
The circling three sit and lift up their heads;
Roaring their challenge to the skies.
Warning the angels in their heavenly stead;
That THIS lion to His realm draws nigh.
The West Kingdom History Website was created by and is maintained by Hirsch von Henford (mka Ken Mayer).