Runs with the lions is their shadows
Waiting till midday to huddle
Under padded feet
Fearing the consequences
If their edges ripped from the fur
To stop running through
The horizon’s layers
Seeping into the dirt
Folding into a dream
They open to see
When their legs grow tired
To close again since dreams
Never come true
When you are trodding
To the melting sunset
Running with the lions
Waiting till midday to huddle
Under padded feet
Fearing the consequences
If their edges ripped from the fur
To stop running through
The horizon’s layers
Seeping into the dirt
Folding into a dream
They open to see
When their legs grow tired
To close again since dreams
Never come true
When you are trodding
To the melting sunset
Running with the lions
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