When it began to rain
People chorused their complain
The lion however
Left his mundane jungle
And ripped his stories past:
Brutal, bountiful insane.
The source of life
Had fed him her droplets
He wasn’t interested
In hunting anymore
Or hurting
It was time to feel her drip drop
And her sound as she caressed his harshness
Drop by drop,
Only love would remain.
