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