You are my gentle lion. Proud and kind and loyal And fierce to those who cause hurt.
You are a freak The one they see in public But those who love you see beauty
You are a statue Unmoving in your resolve Strong when I am weak.
You are my torturer That drags me, ******, crying and wounded To the peace and light
You are the weary soldier Still strong, still fighting But torn up from past battles.
You are the holy one Who will guide me to the life I belong to.
To someone who means a lot to me. If he ever happens accross this page by chance. I would probably never say this to him in person. Its way to cliche for that.