The lion waits.

He guards the door.

Eyes fierce, but calm.

Hungry for his beloved.

Alert, with ears perked

And a trembling in his soul.

She will not come,

To his door.

Yet, the lion watches

His great heart beating with faith.

His mind troubled,

His spirit fierce.

As is hers.

The lioness waits.

Her soul trembles also,

Her mind troubled.

In between the empty space,

Stands the avatars of pride.

Truth and beauty.

Logic and reason.

Pride and ego.

The lion waits.

And watches.

Waiting for his beloved to appear.