The Beast

The Beast, enangered, with razer claws,
made of hate and rage,
the sharpest teeth, and unknown maker,
plague me, the titled "cage".

The Beast attacks and tears at me,
my life hangs merely by a strand,
when it's shroud, a cloak of hate and anger,
slips away where it stands.

Underneath I see it all,
the nature of this Beast,
fear and worry, screaming pain,
an only want, for peace.

The Beast is changed, no longer anger,
nor rage or even hate,
but sorrow, pain and worry now,
too much for me to state.

The Beast escapes, it leaves it's cage,
throughout me it's now present
I feel it's sorrow and it's pain,
now from this event.

It was you that made this thing,
you who put it there,
and let it tear me up inside,
all becase I care.

I want it back, that angered illusion,
I want so much to hate you,
but I give too much of a damn,
to let that hate ring true.

A wet hot stinging fills my eyes,
as tears roll down my face,
I will not run because I know,
for this beast there's no chase.

The pain has now engulfed me,
completely, every peice,
and I'm now in the razor claws,
of this thing I call, The Beast.

(copyright 2006 Michell Santiago)