The Lions

Eyes and soul of mine,
The raging lion inside you, views.
Emerging claw by paw,
In heart rates’ rapid ascent
I cannot help but feel a
Lack of common comfort
In shrewd, selfish lions’ lack of common courtesy
To intended quarry,
Unawares but for two heart beats ago
I may not fail to realize
That which nature, rather than nostalgia
Makes me recognize.
The disjunctive, incensed, lacerating cat
In horrific heredity
Tangles in repressed childhood memory.
Inextricable in the cruelest approach
When memories are rather left than received,
Taking great pains to
Wither the thorned ivy
One may never effectually extract
From our garden, one season to the next.
It is never pleasure to
Come across the nuisance at random once buried.
Your lion is the part of you
I shall always hate,
And always fear,
When there is no control of the pursuit
As other lions know, for the prey.