Until the lion tells his own story
the hunter will always be the hero
No one will ever know
The lions point of view
But if you ever do
Pray you that you are not the hunter

Owls only talk at night
Fearing lights
But falling in love with the moon and the stars
They speak of the past as they feast on old scars

Sometimes what I have to write is more important than what I feel
And sometimes how I feel is more important than what I can write

So when those two meet
Poetry is birthed from my soul
Bleeding on paper are my emotions
Which I hope can take control
I have stood for all and I have fallen for all
Stuck in a dream with a heart full of feelings
If someone can make me feel what’s deep in
I promise to try to love again, if not I hope you can catch me while I am falling for these feelings

She knew she lost a king
When all she had around her
were slaves acting like kings
Loving her body instead of her soul
Spoiling her with money and material things
instead of dressing her finger with Gold
Force feeding her fantasy
instead of creating a better reality
Her heart in pieces
she left them all to go love herself again
In loving herself she found herself a king
Willing to take her in
Wounded and destroyed
He vowed to make sure she never cried again

The devil lied
when he told your heart
that it will never find love again
You found me and now you are my everything