Calling the Lions

Wandering barren spaces, Sleeping beside the dead, Footprints leave no traces On the desert inside your head.

You’re waiting for recognition, A word that could set you free, Now that it seems those antique dreams Were never quite meant to be.

It won’t be the first or last time You’re weary and weak and cold, Remembering how the sky looked When only the stars were old.

We bundled our heads together: Two must be better than one. We set out for California, Racing to catch the sun.

We fashioned a box for virtue, Buried it safe and deep; Still we assumed, like all the doomed, The future was ours to keep.

If life is a cold equation, Then what shall we make of hope, Teasing our expectation, Leaving us too much rope?

You who believed in something, Something you could not name: A flickering lamp in the distance, But you followed it just the same.

And you who had faith in freedom: Though at times it led you astray, You trusted that each and every soul Must eventually find its way.

You struggled to fit into a world You never could be part of; But somewhere inside, you always knew The only true thing is love.