The Beast

Mon, 02/17/2020 - 13:50 -- Berxerc

It lurks in the darkness when it can assume that it is the only breath being taken

It skulks around its lands searching for a meal

All it knows is to devour through its path

Such as an arrow swiftly flies through the air

It only has the primal urge to feed itself

Not for its own stomach, nor for its mind, but its teeth is what it tears through its fare for

The feeling of another substance grinding on those perlious, pointy, pearls of its

The carnal pleasure of gnawing on what isn't its own flesh and bone fills it with satisfaction

As quickly as it enters, it runs back and slumbers through the night

Only to wake up as man

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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