The God of the Lions and the Flies

A Poem By Madalyn Clare // 3/18/2017

Were it but easy to exact
Very trying tasks,
Then all would do the fair share.

Were it but never harrowing
To walk the path ever narrowing,
Then all would take it without a care.

Were it but no daring leap
To maintain the promises we keep,
Then the world would be full of honest men.

Were it but the crooked road
Had the comforts of home,
Then the world would supply for them.

Cut the edges off,
Take the wider path,
And for that the world will commend.

Judgement glances off,
Never taste wrath,
Until your looming temporal end.

Where is my hope in this earth,
So vile and full of hate,
Which cheers on my every sin?

This world which feels mirth,
Has the heart to celebrate,
This void which I have begun to sink in!

God has love for them as well,
I could commit to human memory,
And so I may too love my fellow man.

This knowledge is one that will compel
Me to love, as zealously
The people around me as I can.

If the sun makes sure to rise,
Does not forsake us a day,
We have something which to hold on.

If the God of the lions and the flies
Remembers us as the sun, for sleep it lays,
Then, never, will that hope be gone.

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