The Black Beast

The black beast creeps near

its maw is dripping blood.

It tastes the air for you

it shakes from fur black mud.

Can you hear it breathing?

It sounds like a frozen bear.

Can you see its burning breath in the air?

I’m sorry, was that cliché?

I can’t give a fuck,

you wondering about it makes you a fucking

sitting duck.

Here comes the darkest demon,

the sort that preys on minds,

the beast can bring blackness that would make anyone blind.

Its teeth click with impatience

its pace is agitated.

It tastes your blood

it wants it,

it wants to crush your bones.

Can your mind withstand it?

Will it crumble in the jaws?

Are you the beast within you,

can you hear the monster’s call?

I feel my monster growing

its like a burning flood and I taste the rotten copper of dead and dying blood.

Soft and supple flesh is sweet to mouth and nose

but that bitter, bitter redness turns the body cold.

How do you embrace a monster?

Is it even wise?

Or should they remain hidden as blackness in the skies?

I know one thing for certain,

something that will always be,

here lies a rotten creature

The Black Beast is me.


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