The BeastA Poem by Slim PikkensAbout the perception of life through the eyes of a depressed soul, and the eternal war between heart and mind, when logic and reason combat those sinister feelings within.
At first,
deep within comes a moaning, A muttering; A well rounded sonorous cry, Rumbling within the deepest reaches of the soul. It shakes, and quivers, and cries, and spits. Then, agitated, for too much time has passed, It shrieks! It yells! It kicks, bites, scratches! Wild-eyed, and neglected for too long, It springs forth, hunting precisely for you. Do you hear it? Coming wildly in the night Invading dreams, attacking hearts, and feeling? From states of sweet slumber It doth come Deep within this wood of humanity, Comes this terrible beast, Demanding obeisance, for you must pay heed. And it takes hold, finding it's opponent In the cage of man's lower rib, Forsaking its place from beneath the scalp To wage war with the heart. Till it grows, and restlessly paces about, Seeking to conquer, Full of virtue and truth, This throbbing thing within, That soon beats louder, and harder, and faster Till at last you cry impossibly from within: I Am Here! I am flesh and blood, and bone and hair and nail and teeth! Crying, sighing, moaning, laughing, loving, hating! Ashamed and naked, and ugly and worthless! But here I stand! I am that creature, though desiring to be buried Still walks among the living I am that thing which wishes for the deep hole of solitude To swallow whole the body of my person I am the human hoping this vacancy sign of my soul will switch off Dreaming that perhaps, slumber will last ever-long But the beast roves about, Summoning courage, To assign dignity to my verse On this poem of humanity. I will not go silently in the night, For the beast allows no cowardice And the war beats on.
© 2012 Slim PikkensReviews
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3 Reviews Added on December 30, 2011 Last Updated on January 1, 2012 Author
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