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Emma-Leigh Tyndall Poem
The Lion roars from the highest peak it may reach
His voice covers the savanna
And all will hear His call
He calls out to the lost
To the hurt and broken
He shouts to them to lift them up
Above the dying canyon.
The Lion cries out to them,
"Let them be free,
Free from pain and suffering,
Free from the dark surroundings."
The Lion shouts to His children
The ones He protects
The one who dares to harm them
Meet the Master One
The One who runs forever to the ones who are His
The One who forever cries out,
"Follow Me, My children!"
He protects what is His,
So no one dares to harm
And the one who might get close to them
May he feel the might of His claws
The One who does protect
Is the One of whom is loudest
The One who is most deadly
Though it is He who brings new life,
And those that dare to hurt
The ones that He has claimed
Are the ones He deems His enemy,
And are the ones who die in pain.
The ones who look into His eyes
And see the flames trapped inside
Are the ones who are offended
And detest His ancient light
And the ones who thrive
Off of the hate they create
Are the ones who destroy
The life which He makes.
The one who sees peace
Within His bright eyes,
Is the one of which is His
And is protected day and night.
The Lion roars the loudest,
When He fights against the dark
When He brings his roaring light
To chase away the fear
That tries to take our life
Take away the laughter
Our joyous light
He chases fear away
And basks in the glow
The One who shouts above the crowd,
"Let My children go,
let My children feel My light and bask in its brilliance."
Let the ones whom He deems His
Have the freedom they desire
Let them run and jump and play
Even in the darkest hour
Let them spread their joy
Across every face
Fill every heart with peace
As they each see His grace
The Lion roars in righteous anger
His fury shakes the ground
And the evil one who dares harm His light,
he alone shall die,
his clothes will tear
his face will bleed
As he is defeated
By the One who is
Creator
We are under guard,
We the people of the King
Are protected by the One
Whom angels fear
And nobles do plead and beg for forgiveness.
The One whom has made the world,
Whom hast created Thou,
Lives inside my heart,
Forever and always still.
I feel the raging Lion
As He sees all the pain
He hears the cries of the children
As they beg to be released
And He shall free them from their pain
All their fear whisked away
By the mighty sound that is the roar
Of the ancient saving Lion
Copyright © Emma-Leigh Tyndall | Year Posted 2025
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Emma-Leigh Tyndall Poem
This day seems so bleak though I see joy all around,
I hear their laughter, see their smiles
The paper hearts that line the halls, the gifts that fill each room, the flowers and chocolates and deep thought poems, the hugs and kisses endowed by couples around each corner
The jewelry adorned on youthful girls, the gentle bears in the arms of lads,
And yet, I feel nothing. The tears well up in my heart and there’s a hurricane raging in my mind.
Tasks upon tasks with deadlines quickly approaching.
There was a time, when I was younger, when I would grin, when a smile would stretch across my mouth.
Simply because, on this day, everything was perfect. It was a day of love, a day with no fights.
No shouts filled my home, no insults hurled through doorways.
And when night fell on this wondrous day, my lips would finally release their stretch of death.
Each muscle, once pulled tight, now relaxed as my smile shrunk, fallen to frown at the thought of tomorrow.
When the shouts would echo again, the voices that had once been calm and gentle, rise and hurl across the house, like a stone through a glass pane
Now. In this age, I feel nothing, no drop of joy,
For those voices have long since split, yet still, anger rears its ugly head
Now, there is naught a sound from any emotion
No grief, no joy. I do not feel anger, I do not feel resentment,
I feel nothing. Nothing, but the overwhelming stress of life pushing down on me, and when I try to rise, it strikes me down once more. Again and again, over and over, never ceasing, never stopping.
It’s just a breath that I long for, just a moment, please, I beg you. The tears from my heart now rise to my eyes, but I will not let them fall, I will not break, not here, not now, not like this, not with them-
One day I may fall in love, I may be a shoulder to cry on and I might have that in turn, I may have a hand to hold, even one that I will offer. But that is not today, and that is not this year.
One day my pain will end and I will have peace, but for now, there is nothing.
On this bleak yet joyful day, the day they celebrate the wonders of love, I celebrate nothing
Copyright © Emma-Leigh Tyndall | Year Posted 2025
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Emma-Leigh Tyndall Poem
I remember,
I remember the pain,
I remember the fear.
The loss, the anger, the hurt.
Friendships I thought might last forever,
Torn apart too soon.
People I loved now lost to me.
Years ago, I wrote a letter,
An old song from the depths of my heart.
In this letter, I recall
The crushing, clenching pain.
I thought it was gone, old and fixed,
Oh how wrong I was.
I read these words today and the pain returns,
The wounds not healed but covered,
Ignored and left in the past, I thought they couldn’t hurt me,
But the bandage has been torn, ripped from my skin
Revealing shredded flesh and weeping blood.
My chest is clenching, my heart clutched in yesterday’s bruising grasp.
The memories hurt and my tears fall fresh, leaving red tracks against my cheeks,
The thoughts I had way back when,
The all encompassing ache that filled my heart,
It returns again, though not as sharp as once before.
Copyright © Emma-Leigh Tyndall | Year Posted 2025
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