the lamb

I wear the fangs, I bear the snarl, A borrowed growl, a tempered scowl. This woolen heart beats soft and true, Yet cloaked in steel, the winds cut through. The world is sharp, it bites, it claws, It laughs at kindness, twists its laws. So here I stand, my fleece concealed, A gentle soul, a sword to wield. They say to fight, I must be stone, To guard my heart, to stand alone. But in the dark, when none can see, The lamb still weeps inside of me. Yet I must prowl, yet I must bite, To brave the storm, to win the fight. For though I ache to shed this guise, The world still preys on softer eyes. A lamb in wolf’s clothing, I walk the line, Between the tender and the unkind. But if I bare my teeth and stay, Will I still know myself one day?