Roaring Lion

By David De Jong

The lion stalks the path at night
Taste my soul would be his delight
Darkness hides his silent demise
All I hear are his ceaseless lies

In my weakness he gains my trust
It pleases him to watch me rust
As a thief the latches he pries
All I hear are his ceaseless lies

He waits his most opportune time
Weaving a shiftless paradigm
Self doubt, depression, all his spies
All I hear are his ceaseless lies

The lion stalks the path at night
All I hear are his ceaseless lies

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