In many dreams, he comes to me,
With the roar of righteous thunder,
A lion king, with golden eyes.
That love me with passionate hunger.
With a deadly purr he lulls me,
To become his willing prey,
I can only bear my throat,
As I tremble to obey.
Truth burns my breast as he tastes me.
With my cheek I stroke his mane.
I understand salvation.
He understands my pain.
With mighty power, he takes me,
And savagely I am awakened.
A violent hunger strokes the soul.
Yet this dream has left me shaken.
Christy Cole
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