A Beast of a man in appearance and soul,
A silhouette of her memories chilling him cold,
Sitting alone with his thoughts hating time,
Screaming inside trying to shatter his mind,
Immune to pain from his love of Roses,
The beautiful thorns struck vivd poses,
His love was a curse, She laid it herself,
A disease, a sickness, It shattered his health,
It occured at first sight of this beauty, This Belle,
Time had been spent she was treating him well,
His eyes wet with tears, His cold heart growing warm,
Foreshadowing revealed the oncoming storm,
She had to go away with a promise of return,
He gave her a ring and his voice had been stern,
He brushed her cheek gently and said very clear
"Remember my love, Im always right here"
After being home and revisitng her life,
She decided to stay, an unsuspected knife,
With the last of his soul he picked a final rose,
In the dark of his castle where the sun never rose,
Be it magic or hope the rose never dies,
Never to be witnessed by another Belles eyes,
He locked it away, Hidden without fail,
You say youve heard this? An old Fairytale?
I guess it is close. Similar at least,
Look closely my friend.. I am the Beast.