Upon stolen sand

When you come, I'll bathe you  
in the holy water of a lionness  
stalking in the blackness  
of a harsh, slumbering Sun.  

As you come upon your prized pyre,
offering the embers of oldest fires,
burning the paws of my beast brutally,  
singing retellings under our shared Moon, I growl and hiss and spit at you.  
 
In this wasteland, where we roar our truths from mountaintop,  
for the ones before and the ones to come, and the ones that never were,
I weep.  
 
#MayaAngelou