The Lion is king they said,
I couldn’t see him nor his throne,
but I believed.
Is my believe an unbelief?

I wish silence was golden,
but the birds would not stop chirping,
the bats respond as to a call,
I feel lost at home,
as in a strange land.

I pray for night to come,
to fall like a lifeless body,
but the owl rise to wake the dead.
My home it seems but,
a strange land it is.

It is home, but I don’t feel at home.
I see birds of the same feather,
but my kind, extinct,
far away from home.

I’ve waited for the king.
Him I cannot see,
to my abode I return,
almost,
helpless.

I hear a tiny little,
pale stricken,
but warming voice beckon.
Is that You? I asked.

Dogs bark, bears growl,
peacocks scream, wolves woof,
but You,
You speak.

I anticipated your welcome to be with a roar,
but the path to my heart, you fought.
You trode on it like it was yours.
Are you The King?

I need not ask but I ask,
few words You speak and
only You do.

I wish you were here earlier,
the day would be night.
Not dark but calm,
not fearful but restful.

Its been a long day,
though its just dawn.

I wish I could feel your face,
see your form,
watch you smile and say,
You love me.

Now I know you watch over me.
My Kind You are,
calm, steady,
The King.

Your voice and words,
are pearls of precious stones.
My heart says yes,
and in the storm,
I’ll still be still.

I have shared the above poem of mine to let you know, ‘you are never alone. Even in the storm, be still.’

Storms rage, friends walk away. Challenges come but in the end you have to find the strength to be still. You might have lost everything but you still have you.

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