Since his birth I have been;

I assist his cloudy days

Until sunshine prevails,

I illuminate his darkest nights

Until copious stars break through

I am his light—I am his lion

Audaciously confident

Fierce in some force,

Aiding he who grows

Like the seeds of a garden

Companionship he participates in;

Others are beyond my control

But well he chooses with them—

Spirits wielding blades of kindness

That may change with the wind

A breeze that drifts gently;

A change that arrives subtly

He then begins to flail

And drown in the waves

That the wind stirs up

Companions betray and so does he

The light that I gifted is drowned—

Beyond salvageable, a small ember

Never to take fire again

Never to be pure again

His seeds grow but do not flourish;

The strength of a lion is not as strong

As his mindset for money is

Nature he kills and words he cuts with;

I am neglected and downturned

He grows, but I do not grow with him

I leave him to his duties of destruction

For I am not enough for him

And there is nothing left of him for me;

The seeds of my boy are poisoned