All he sees are death-masked stars,
|
The lion's world is cold and sharp,
|
All he wants is much too far,
|
So he stalks the road of token cars,
|
He snarls at winds that mean no harm,
|
And takes the thorns in perfect form,
|
A broken ideal rides inside the tortured lion's denim hide.
|
|
I want the lion's share,
|
Gather up the broken chairs,
|
Feed my mind unholy tests,
|
Do me in,
|
I need to rest.
|
|
He sleeps when nothing's in the air,
|
Eats the scraps of some who care,
|
Strains the night to overbear,
|
Secrets hidden in the lair,
|
Pauses long enough to dream.
|
Nightmares push the glowing scream,
|
His shadowed eyes show the toll,
|
Something only lions know.
|
|
-----------------
|
Lion's Share
|
| Germs |
