I guess this can be also considered personal, given that I do know the person who is the subject of my poem; my ‘lioness’. I remember my anger towards the lioness at the time of writing; at what she had said and what she had done, how she had flashed her claws and showed her fangs.
She’s unparalleled as she’s stalking for blood.
She looks for names that she can turn to mud.
Our circles aren’t clear, she narrows down fear
and she elects herself as animality judge.
—-
Observations to put the Gestapo to shame.
She is dominant in her predators’ game.
Beware of her tongue, and the venom she’s strung,
immobilising obstacles to her throne to claim.
—-
To any challenge she will catch and bite,
Vindication to the new meat in sight.
An infallible queen, or so she must be seen,
so as to curtain her heart of night.
—-
Now you’re a victim, you are on your own.
No one dares to scrape her from her throne.
It is what she sees, a pack without peace.
But there’s always space for you, it should be shown.
—-
Such a creature should roam the battle-ground.
A narcissism monster we don’t want around.
She’s polluted the air, with fear and despair
hiding warm happiness where it won’t be found.
—-
She seeks to steal the most kindly of souls,
for her own is a blizzard of cold.
It would be her delight, to crucify Snow White,
but she’d burn with innocence she’s unable to hold.
Scintillapoet 