BE A KING

BE A KING

   Purposely picking at the scab. Ruthlessly ripping at the mask. Thrashing, lashing out savagely. It's pacing; methodically back and forth in it's cage.

   What comes up must come down. Recognize the sound of impact to the ground. Stand back dear child and be astounded as the rain begin to mound. Pounding puddles into running rivers, lakes, and oceans that sift all away... The flood gates are open again.

   In a forest full of trees they leaves. Bringing forth to the world this new disease. Pray to your father upon thy bended knee. Mothering this b*****d Style. The nature of the Beast is to feast upon the weak. Primal, animistic you cannot deny what you are; carnivore. You mask the Beast but, for how long?

   Inventing fire only to burn yourself time and time again. Reinventing the wheel. Circle to no point, chasing your tail to no end. Lions at the gates. Screaming at the top of your lungs for kindness. Until you give up and just take what you want with brute force. Grab life by the throat.  

Be a king.

by the unknown sith

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Your poem seems to be agitating in different directions, a push-and-pull fight against good and bad. I get glimpses of a Lion King approach to life, wanting to be a winner & all . . . yet how this is portrayed, I get the feeling that "being king" is NOT a good thing. Maybe a brutal dude without empathy fancies himself "king of the jungle" as a way to justify ruthless stepping over people & leaving friends behind if necessary (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie