remember I was once a lamb,
do not look at me and see only the monster,
created by the flight and from the slaughter,
my wounds were fresh and raw then.
recount when I was just a whisper,
muffled by shouts and screams and laughter,
that was when my hands were empty,
I had given all I had to offer.
recall my good intentions,
stomped on by the raging heard,
see my bandages have lost their stick
and what was there, is now.
think of where I lost my way,
when I went into hiding.
then maybe you won't shriek with horror,
when I come back a lion.