I am learning as the lion is dying.
His paws are twitching as I grow to be strong without a surfaced weakness.
I am powerful now.
He is dead, deceased, and rotting.
I never think of him, until now.
I am an elder to the people.
I am an old newspaper saved for kindle for when the world ends.
When darkness comes I will be there,
but NO I am powerful, I am ruling over these fuck-ups.
Look at me with admiration.
but who am I to speak?
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Hey, are you at all interested in publishing or being published? Have you ever thought of writing or co-writing songs? Very thoughtful stuff as usual.
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