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In the Case of: The Lamb vs The Lion
My Soul's mortal journey,
March's in rhythm to a tiresome road.
Nomadically, I march along
Naturally, I carry on alone.
Drum beats a wary way cry.
My soul mourns in forced silence.
As a result, I get slapped,
Straight in the face of sorrow.
I hear my Soul's shrieks,
it's frightened gasps...
In awe of terror,
The construction of fear.
Obbessive, over-stimulation of grief,
Misfortune of distrust, thus beckons agony.
As the desperate, starving Lion
Devourers the cherubic sheep.
