gentle lamb

your soft curls were sheepish

how they delicately kissed the brim of your temple 

and matted down toward the back of your neck 

i was your foolish shepherd 

guiding you toward greener pastures 

where i knew you could frolic 

and would be safe from capture 

you pulled your wool over my eyes,

before emerging from the carcass of gentle cloud-

revealing fangs of a wolf

with an empty bloodlust so loud

you ripped me apart out in that field 

with no regret or remorse- 

laughing at my gullibility

while tearing apart my corpse

and as I lay there bleeding,

slaughtered for sport and play-

he wipes he lips,

and rezips his delicate disguise.

he begins to hunt down another heart

ripe enough to believe his lies.