Here They Come, All of Them

Lion,
Where is your mane?
You think once you grow wings
You will have no need for legs?

Master,
You cannot see the undergrowth
With your head raised so high
And your eyes level

Sinner,
You have laughed
Perfected your consumption,
Your lust-craft

Walker,
Where do your feet take you
If not to the end
Where all paths die

Beggar,
You will sit
Bent over on your knees
Tears and pleas

Breath, exalted Earth creature
And answer me this;
Where are you
And where are you going?

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