DEAD LIONS DON'T ROAR
It wells up inside of you
Your eyes holds a hundred Stories to be told of past success
Your spirit yearns for days when you walk quietly like a slow breeze
Days when your roar was an explosive self expression
Your presence radiates
And you rolled with the hyenas
You could hardly chase an antelope
You were meant to run wild and not to climb
But since you separated from the herd
The mass no longer part when you roar
The king of the savannah
Your power explodes like that of a volcano
No man can stand you
Not until you spared the wolf
The grace in fellowship
@360potential
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