Untitled (Poem)

Untitled (Poem)
Written by: Amanda Kay Johnson

In the darkness the shadow appeared
calling to her, a most comforting, yet despised siren
She wrestled in the night, reminding herself of what had come before
trying to silence the siren’s pleas
And in the struggle, the lion appeared, roaring ready to devour
He was cunning, an old foe, who knew her well,
though one, more ancient, knew her better
The lion closed his mouth, for now, knowing he could lead her
the trivial trinket dangled before her, alluring, just enough
The soft, velvety paws, began to walk, drawing her from the spring
She followed him along the ridge and journeyed down, down
Each step drew her closer, yet more distant, to intended destination
The surf lapped upon the shores, wave after wave
beckoning like the deceptively gentle undertones of the lion
Purrs muddled with ebbing current, the serenading Bacchic pipes arousing
Inhibitions gone exchanged for pleasure and fantasy,
she plunged into the salty waters and drank deeply
She swam until the tide made her weary and return to the shore
There she lay, finally comatose, upon her grainy bed
The lion opened his mouth once more delighted at his fallen prey
Unable to stir or speak, the effects of the salt water, she could only but watch
He encircled, relishing her scent, sniffing with glee, taking his time to consume
Fantasy turned horror, mute, convicted and paralyzed
She could do nothing except await his impending, flesh-piercing, lacerations
Overwhelmed with desire, he leapt upon her as silent screams echoed forth
Butcher savagely, the lion thought, and yet with each vicious bite
blood and salt water surged forth from her mouth and wounds rendering healing
The lion ate without remorse consumed with hateful desire and gorged himself
Invisible before him, a new woman lay, revived and free from her saline death
Though he was deaf to her words, she thanked him for liberating her
appreciative of unintended pedagogy and renewal, returning to the spring