A Lion Does Not Concern Himself with the Opinion of a Sheep

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 Glaring,

Imagining putting bullet holes through my head,

death,

I see it in your eyes,

It is to no surprise,

that I feel your hate darkening the room with it's shadow.

 

You despise for what I have,

But trust me,

I am no longer mad.

 

As I sit here on my throne,

your eyes burning cold,

I watch you as you suffer,

Your screams are silenced,

It's a pity your so ruined,

doomed to stay weak,

A sheep.

 

As I rise,

Strong and proud,

For I recognize what I have now,

Something you will never have,

and you know I might feel bad,

But as I have heard many times before,

A lion does not concern himself with the opinion of a sheep.  

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