A Lion's heart, but it lost it's pride,
one nasty grudge with a gun
and a million thoughts that flicker and subside.

I see your face in the dying moonlight,
a heart that's torn, mangled,
kept awake by past memories that whisper in the night.

A bud that splits, fed by intravenous inception
moral decomposition ingrained into its glistening petals,
leading its victims on a crimson stained mis-direction -

you're my Dove that shines in the light
but with split feathers, and broken wings;
the kiss from the Devil you used to love
still bites and stings.

For tonight you cry for mercy
as I silently peer through the crack in the door -

it seems father finally took your heart,
and left it bleeding and shattered upon the floor.