Self-Made Martyr

I am not a poet, but I do write poems for class, when I have to. This one was also inspired by my muse, bless his little heart.

I have walked into the lionís den
And I have seen them lying there
Their golden manes aglow with fire
Their amber eyes alive with light
And I was so afraid

I continued on despite myself
And I passed amongst their ranks
Some lying on the rocks
Some prowling back and forth
And I could see them all

I searched within their hearts
And I hoped for some small truth
But their eyes betrayed their hunger
But their roars revealed their rage
And I would not stop for them

I saw a truly magnificent creature
And I stopped myself at once
He was brave, but also gentle
He was smart, but also kind
And I lay down next to him

I was enamored of his beauty
And I longed to touch his mane
He suffered me to pet him
He ate food from my hands
And I knew that he was mine

I stayed there with my lion
And I trusted him completely
Still I knew I had not tamed him
Still he could pretend so well
And I offered him my throat

I felt the searing pain at once
And I knew that he had struck
For a beast is always just a beast
For a fool is as fair as any game
And I learned my lesson well

I cried the tears of the betrayed
And I cursed him for this act
Yet he acted as nature dictates
Yet I expected nothing different
And I resigned myself to it

I had failed at playing lioness
And I did become the lamb
My blood he drank most eagerly
My heart he enjoyed best of all
And I was devoured whole

<--- Back to Writings