Acting like the lion got her nowhere
because when it came to the truth,
she couldn't wear the costume forever
and she found herself lying on a bed of ashes
that once were hay,

comforting and soft, some how she rose again
and escaped the lions den,
but they had never known her struggle,
the meager little thing,
the devil burned her bed
and all the nasty things inside her head
seemed to turn to ash in seconds
because there was nothing tangible left to hold

of you, and your warmth, your love
the bitter aching cold
as everything wilted in the absence
of your life,

but as it goes,
everything wilted is reborn,
and finally, the little lamb,
didn't have to be the lion,
the little lamb was left happy,
with who I am.