Fusion

a lion and a lamb stitched together,
not by love, but by the rough hands of a universe
that wanted a laugh,
or a lesson no one asked for.
an animal at war with itself,
claws and fear tangled in its veins,
walking the world in search of a key
to unlock peace it may never find.

the lion wakes first,
eyes burning with the sun’s ambition.
he sees a kingdom—vast, abundant, his.
he roars and the world bends;
obstacles crumble like dust in his path.
he knows what he wants
and takes it with teeth and muscle.
his is a fire that consumes
but never apologizes.
he is his own master,
his own god.

but the lamb stirs too,
trembling beneath the weight of morning.
its world is small,
a landscape of shadows and imagined predators.
it sees only what looms ahead,
the next sheep, the shepherd’s hand,
the promise of safety if it obeys.
the lamb begs where the lion takes,
fears where the lion fights.
its heart beats in panic,
its strings pulled by invisible hands.

and so the creature rises,
half-majesty, half-dread,
steering itself into another day.
you feel the ship beneath your hands,
the course uncertain.
is it the lion at the wheel,
confident and wild?
or the lamb,
hesitant and hoping to survive?

each morning,
you decide who sails,
but the war inside rages on.