pry these bloodbent thorns
out of my screaming hands,
though i am the mouse
and you are the lion.
(i remember this story going differently.)
your care is great--
cradling me in terrifying paws,
washing me in still waters,
restoring my soul.
i possess nothing to merit such mercies--
and if i did, i wouldn't offer it to you,
despite your kindnesses.
you see, i'm a selfish bastard.
(this revelation doesn't surprise you.)
but now i'm confused,
o great lion,
king of beasts and men.
why are you
piercing your own brow with
my thorns?
(hat-tip manders for first-line inspiration)
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