A voice is heard often
Like a lion roaring in a den.
He wants to come out,
Roar once again, slake his drought.
But another voice is heard again,
It rebukes the lion and closes the den.
This voice sounds like that of a man
Who wants to do all, but has no plan.
The day isn’t too far
When the tumult will turn into a war.
Face of lion with a body of man, I see,
None is ready to set the other free.
This war of the voices begins with the sunrise,
And ends at the moment I close my eyes.
This is the way where monsters tread,
Head’s alive, while the heart’s dead.
Written in response to November writing prompt.