The Beast
It lives inside, surviving at my expense. Parasitic, it takes nourishment from my hope and will. Emancipation cowers under its viscous fog. Though weak when it slumbers, it rests where it is safe
Secreting a sedative, it renders me helpless. I feel no pain from its invasion but pain comes from its presence. I witness their pain but feel bereft of responsibility. The part of me knowing this is not so, is weak and ignored.
I reluctantly shut down under its superior strength. Numbness stifles the head and my energy drains. Helplessness feels natural, perversely comfortable. Desires are feeble, it’s an effort to speak, and the beast thrives.
Anger roars easily, like a tormented lion in a cage, prodded and poked by callous passers-by. Music sedates the beast and reaches inside my soul to awaken me. When exposed to it, my malevolent visitor grows weak as my emotions live and dance freely once more. I am enthused by its therapeutic effect.
The louder the medicine, the stronger the result, and the beast retreats further. Unperturbed, it sleeps and cares little. It knows this is but a temporary threat. Music is briefly all-powerful. I bask in its healing and the fog scatters.
Soon after the quiet returns, the beast seeps back - the beast thrives
© Andy(ArT)Trigg 2000
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on April 13th, 2008 with
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