LFP, by Benjamin P. Hawkins

Witness my cold heart of a lion.

Why don't you whisper the secrets of the world?

Why don't you move the clouds or churn the seas?

I wish you would.

You'll die in my shadow, as if you had a choice.

While you scream for life to screw me.

Bringing me ruffled sheets and tear stained cheeks.

Blood shot eyes and ecstasy.

I will crush your weak little heart that pales in the light of mine.

Little. F@!$ing. Princeling.

I hear you cry. 

And I couldn't care less.

Crawl in the sun. Walk upon glass shards.

Die and be eaten by wolves.

Be torn apart by the elements and claimed by nature. 

You heartless f@!$.

While you wriggle and worm.

You have the audacity to approach my slumbering state.

F@!$ you 

You.

Little.

F@!$ing.

Princeling.