The Fall of the Lion and His Maiden

I still remember iron on my tongue,

When your breath turned the daylight red.

From quiet places I felt you watching,

Soft-spoken truths filling my head.

Through the branches I felt your hunger,

Like fire tracing my skin.

Through the roses I followed your calling,

I think we both knew where this would end.

You knew I was dangerous.

You knew I was undone.

You knew that loving me was never meant to be clean or simple love.

I was your heaven.

Now I’m your storm.

Say my name softly—I’ll hum our song.

We ran from the place we couldn’t name home,

Let the thorns mark where we’d been.

We danced while the sun was dividing,

Learning what freedom costs when it begins.

You stole a kiss like it was stolen time,

Pulled me close by the curve of my waist.

I bit the fruit and you didn’t stop me—

You took my hand anyway.

Lion of ruin,

Gardener of fire,

We were never meant to survive the start.

Lion of ruin,

Gardener of desire,

But we chose the fall with open hearts.

I remember the slow, sweet breaking—

How the world slipped quietly away.

Wilted roses rested in my hair,

Your voice kept me safe in the decay.

Every day my wings felt heavier,

Feathers torn by wanting too much.

“What is this ache I can’t outrun?”

You said, “It’s love—let it hurt, let it touch.”

They say we’re reckless.

They say we’re wrong.

They don’t know the warmth we built in the dark all along.

Now I’m your shadow,

Your black swan flame,

And I’ve never felt held like this before your name.

Look once more at the burning garden,

Feel the gates turn into dust.

Stay my wild thing, my quiet sin—

If we fall, we fall in trust.

When the wings finally break from my back,

And the earth opens wide below,

Hold my waist as we descend together—

I was never afraid to go.

We fell from heaven because heaven couldn’t keep us.

The world below caught fire when we touched it.

Lion and maiden—unbroken, unrepentant—

The fall was the point.

Some stories end in fire.

Others begin there.