The Last Supper

And sometimes it’s not even love

It’s infatuation, the love and nurture you bring to the table

They’re filled while you’re left to hope for your meal

Your energy is depleting

Now you’re thinking “well, when did I ever make a deal to dance with the devil?!

You’re clinging to your last breath

And they wouldn’t even think, “maybe if I just breathe some life into em, they’ll be another chance

Then again it’s like why would they

If they didn’t even think to ask

“What would you like on the menu tonight?!

Miraculous chain of events though

While clinging to your last breath

Sparks of light showered down upon you

Within that a rebirth occurred

Out of the dark

You left your mark

While they took a walk in the park

Saying, “Damn! All I had to do was feed em”