There is a lion roaring in me, and that is why I couldn’t hear you when you said that I can’t do it.
I’m not sorry that I couldn’t stop you when you walked out on me
Neither am I sorry that I couldn’t mourn when you gave up on me… the roaring of the lion never gave me the chance.
I couldn’t be still… it will roar me to madness
I couldn’t stop my fingers… it will roar me into unbearable pain
I couldn’t limit my imagination… it will roar me into self loathe neither could I not have hope… it will roar me to suicide
Whenever I write, it will be calm for a while until its temperature is risen again like the fire that divides crude oil… then it will roar me sleepless and restless, reminding me that I have more than one flare.
So, you see why I cannot give up… not because I am that strong or so disciplined, not because my determination pushes farther than others’ or that my will is unshakeable… but only because of the very strong lion that roars in me.
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