Charlie
Fly the plane
the beast

the beast

A Poem by Lucky

in a cave not so far away - 
in a land of emerald green earth
baby blue skies
and sapphire seas - 
there dwells a docile beast

he has been dormant for quite some time
dormant
but not sleeping
and not dead

the beast lays in the cave
in wait
pining away
hoping that fate and destiny
will work in his favor

his stomach grumbles
with the sound of a thousand lions
a thousand lions roaring pleadingly
begging to be fed

but he refuses to eat
because nothing he is offered
satisfies his appetite
nothing is to his taste

and so
slowly but surely
he begins to starve

the beast is on the brink of death
emaciated
deprived of what he sees other like him having

he feels helpless
almost ready to capitulate
relinquish himself to death

the beast is within me
and it is i who starves him

for months i scurry here and there
searching for something to feed the beast
but he accepts nothing

one day i take a walk in the park
desolate
haunted by the roar of the beast's belly
i crumble
i lay myself by the pond
looking up at the sky
searching for an answer among the clouds
all i see is fluff
white fluff

a face appears above me
soft smile
sharp nose
crinkles that form around his eyes when he grins
his eyes sparkle
they radiate a strange feeling
a feeling that channels into me
as he peers down into my face

i am overcome with emotion
something wells up within me
and i realize
for the first time
the beast has stopped making noise

i cannot believe the silence
i am still on the ground
and i can see the boy's lips moving
but i can't hear him - 
i'm too busy listening for the beast
but i can't hear him either
- he is gone

the boy with the face helps me up
i stumble into his arms
we smile sheepishly at each other
we walk off together

finally, i have fed the beast its fill.

© 2012 Lucky


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Very good story poem. Nicely done.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on February 20, 2012
Last Updated on February 20, 2012

Author

Lucky
Lucky

About
interested in writing, just need help on the motivation side. i tend to write a lot when i'm angry or sad, though (usually the two come together). i sometimes wish i was hipster, but i'm not, really. .. more..

Writing
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