Slowly moving,
Circling,
It knows it's not losing,
Judging.
It's paws on mute,
Eyes the colour of exotic fruit,
It rounds up on its prey.
And finally....
The lion pounces.
(Original)
Hi, can you believe I couldn't sleep and at 2:00 am this idea just popped into my head?
I'm insane, I know.
_dont_steal_my_food_
YOU ARE READING
Original Poems
PoesíaPoems I write in my notebook. They aren't brilliant but they're not bad either, hope you like them. Sneak peek: "Blood dripping from a Rose, Is like seeing an angel cry, It's unholy, never to be seen, It's heart has bled dry." All original, no copy...
