How does the lion fall in love with the lamb?
How is its thirst quenched
Without a well thought out arranged plan?
The beast of all beasts; it feasts
Until it’s done
Until the bitter end

Head down and raised hand
The only question:
Which is the one that I am;
The lion, or the lamb?

Is it a look, a sound, or a sweet scent?
Hung up and hell bent
Dispersed at a moments notice
The feeling that
transcends

Mind over matter,
Completely empowered,
Just as lambs feel,
Before being devoured

A nightmarish dream,
Filled with red streams,
And fresh meat
Unannounced, subtle, discrete
But ultra aware
Of its natural instinct
to flee
When the wolves descend
Back, back into the evergreens

Under blood clouds
Over lush land
Tree roots
And black sand

Awaken by bee stings
Vultures beaks and bat wings
Jet streams
And sweet things
The cruel world,
My reality; it seems