THE BEAST

THERE ARE NIGHTS THAT SIT, AS STILL AS ICE
THERE ARE NIGTHS WHEN THE MOON SINGS, A DEATH SONG
THERE ARE NIGHTS, BLACKER THAN DIRT
THERE ARE NIGHTS, WHEN THE BEAST COMES ALIVE
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
IT AWAITS, IN DARK SHADOWS, IN THE FACES OF OTHERS
IT HUNGERS, A COLD CHILL IN THE SOUL
THE DARK EYES, HE SEES AT NIGHT
THE DARK VOICE, THAT CALLS HIM OUT
THERE IS NO SLEEP, ONLY PRAYER FOR REALEASE
FOR A CATIFF MUST ROAM, FREE OF ALL TIES
BOUND ONLY BY, THE MORTAL WORLD
THE WORLD THAT SOMEHOW, STILL PULLS ON HIM
THE UNLIFE, IT TO MUST TUG, TOGETHER, THEY RIP HIM APART
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
IF ONE NIGHT, YOU SHOULD AWAKEN, TO THE SCREAM OF A GRUFF TORTUE
THEN YOU WILL KNOW, THE BEAST IS AWAKE
IT CAN NO LONGER WAIT
IF ONE NIGHT, YOU AWAKEN DEAD
AND YOU FEEL THE BEAST, THERE WILL BE THE NIGHTS
WHEN THE NIGHT IS STILL, AND THE MOON SINGS HIGH
AND YOU SEEK THE WARM BLOOD, TO COOL THE CHILL
IN YOUR SOUL...

by
*~~Justin~~*