I'm standing on the ledge,
somewhere between love and destitution.
You say you can handle being threatened,
But your eyes tell me something different.

I know what I'm up against,
I'm the jackal and she's the lion.
I carry you across the dry, barren landscape,
Feeding you bits of my heart
to sustain your essence.

My heart pounds like a thousand hoofbeats,
Echoing across the valley
of hatred and intolerance.

Like an old battle horse,
I move slowly and steadily,
Despite the wounds-- invisible to your eyes,
Causing fear throughout my body and soul:
Of losing you,
To a sea of vultures.