- Misc. Poems
The Beast
I look in the mirror,
And what do I see?
A hollow visage,
Staring back at me.
Eyes that burn,
In a splendid red.
While its lifeless complexion
Illuminates its head.
What sort of wretch,
Could this pitiless creature be?
That burns in hell,
Yet yearns to be free?
I can't help but feel pity,
For this miserable beast.
Perhaps I could help it,
At the very least.
But how do you free,
The beast from inside,
When all you can do,
Is cower and hide?
You must stand up,
And be strong,
And you must fight hard,
And long.
For if the Beast
Is ever to be freed,
You must try and try,
And expect to bleed.
If you think it will be easy,
It will not.
It will be a long battle,
And viscously fought.
But once the beast
Is finally free,
To all of your problems,
Will he hold the key.