I watch as you cradle yet another beast
It's tangled fur and muddy face
They would be enough to scare off everyone else
But not you
Oh, not you
You reach out your hand to untangle the strands
To kiss the bared fangs
Because you believe in good
Because it can still be saved
I always wondered how could you be so trusting
To put your palm in the beast's jaw
You'd laugh off my worries
Saying, there's good in every being
You were right
Until you weren't
Oh you sweet fool
All beasts were once pure
But not men
Oh not men
But you didn't know that
Or you did
But you still did what you always have
You still took him in
Offered food, home, love
And that parasite grew
Until even you were not enough to devour
I don't blame you
But you didn't warn anyone
That there's a beast of the worst kind in your house
One that smells like ***** and cheap cigarettes
Oh you didn't
And I've paid for that
That beast tore me apart
When I was only growing
It defiled me
It made me scared
So much we both forgot
One from *****, one from fear
I don't blame you
But you can't save him
Not him
Because you can't save something that doesn't want to be saved
It'll reap your throat out and still ask for more
You can't save a man that ruins you
You can only suffer with him
Until he gets his hands on your niece that's six
Oh how much I wish I didn't stay at your house that night
It was filled with people
But no one noticed
How child's world shatters
And yet
You were never intimidated by any fangs
You always wanted to pet every monster
But you can't save something that kills
What is left pure

Glass tears dance on the lawn of dreams –
offered sweetness at hand; while the Beast
breathes fire over frost; black fur coiled in winter’s
chill, his warmth a lie dressed in comfort.

He offers blindness as a blessing, the bliss
of the thoughtless path. In the silence of white
winter, you take his claw, mistaking it for a hand.
“To die for”—a morbid metaphor— what is the gift
of a Beast meant for?

Around him, the dancing lich spins— leeches
birthed  from tombs of need. A cliff that clefts;
as a cleft lip cannot speak the truth, it only bleeds.
Closed eyes cannot paint the dark—
but they stay loyal  to its canvas.

Left bereft—travelers avoid certain subjects:
being sick of yourself, tasting your own *****.
But hush now— we’ll skip the topic. Change the
subject. And bury that scent.

As she was sent; and of all the objects she takes
from the Beast—he cures grief with a sugar-coated sting.
But bittersweet is still a shade of sweet, it rots your teeth,
and maybe he works with the tooth fairy to collect what
decay leaves behind.

But in the cold, no one heals— they run to the hills,
as their heels are clicking in panic of snow-bitten ground.
Perhaps this time, Little Red took the wrong road—
and the wolf she met, has grown hungrier from
feasting quietly on empty bones.

      ....there's no-one to save her at all.

Is being fair, beauty?
Is the moon, beauty?
Is being attractive, beauty?
Is being popular, beauty?
Is a flower, beauty?
Is being good, beauty?

What do humans call beautiful?
Something that favors them — that’s what they call beautiful.

But sometimes,
things are beautiful even when they look ugly...
Like how Beauty fell in love with a Beast.

Who am I in this world we call Earth, and our home
By species, I am a human being, supposedly master of all other species
We were made to look after and care for this planet called Earth

Instead we have ravaged, plundered and ***** the planet earth
In our blind quest to obtain control and dominance over all

Are humans masters or slaves of their egos, their pride
Humans believe they are invincible, they can do anything, to anyone
Man's greatest enemy is man himself, a beast beyond all beasts
So, who am I, man, the master or man, the beast of all beasts

I am two sides of the same coin, the master and the beast
There is a struggle inside of me for dominance, for control
Sometimes the master wins, other times the beast wins


I fear, I fear the beast will gain control and dominance over me
I have seen the power of the beast unleashed, a madness, a rage
A madness, a rage only a beast from hell can possess, it scares me

So, who am I, man, the master or the beast from hell
It's very difficult to know, as I keep changing all the time
Will someone please tell me, please tell me, please tell me
Who am I, Who am I, Who am I

Why do I growl when I'm upset?
Grrr I want to hold you
Grrr I need your touch
Grrr please help me
Maybe I growl because the only part of me that is allowed to feel pain is the Beast.
Maybe the Beast lurks behind my tongue,
wanting to scream, but only able to scare.
I pity this Beast. It does not bite, and it cannot bark.
Its sole connection to the world is a defensive, angry, growl.

I think I am drowning—
but not in her eyes anymore.

The weight pressing me down
isn’t the pull of her stare,
but my own brother’s words,
dragging me under.

My ears ring.
My heart pounds.

I tell myself to breathe,
but my body is no longer mine to command.

The anchor that held me steady is gone,
and in its place, something festers.
A monster seeps through the cracks they left,
spilling into my thoughts,
warping what little of me remains.

I will spend my life yearning,
serving a queen who will never be mine.
I can’t even look at her.

I am a coward—
the same one she first met.
The same monster she first hated.

And like all beasts in their castles,
I will be alone.

Now! is the time
for those loved least
A howl!
assembles the spooks, kooks, and beasts

An autumnal lense looks
at cracks between light
Be brave! Embrace inspired fright
Reach into the shadow
and we just might make friends
with the spectre called Life

We are alive! Let's celebrate this
divergent experience we co-create

All I seem to remember
Are the hollow eyes
Peeking from behind damp walls
Walls dripping with misery and the cold winters day
In a land where no flowers break through the heavy clay
Even though they try their best
The beast always catches them at the stem
Tears the blossoms out in calm rage
The feeling sold by its empty eyes
Like a useless spy
Wandering the streets sick with smoke
And liquor

Under starfull skies
Praying to God for a comet
To yell my wish at:
“Oh,to be more than just a clump of cells and flesh and bones
Patching together my soul
Creating something mine
The only thing I can call so“
Because I know each breach carved with the steady occupation
I could lead your hands into the gaps dug by
My litospheric plates moving
                                                   shifting
                                                                colliding
Far too soon

Now I have forests and mountain ranges
Peeking out of my veins
Spreading the dark ecosystem of my mind
I can feel the frost and the gloom biting trough my skin
The fog covering my every inch

Fangs dangerously close to bones
The only part clean of the parasites
Unlike my tunnel-disrupted skin
The penetrated veins sticking out of it

Slowly decaying away
While my heart fills my leaking body with new blood
Sisyphean effort
The life that goes to waste
But stains the flesh a vibrant red
My half-alive corpse
The only thing radiant on this grey lifeless street

The monster slowly kneels down to my side
Pierces its talon through my bone
Sells me to death
Leaves my core to rot
Defeating its defences like an unknown weapon
Injecting terror into the cold white stuff tangled around my heart
                                                                                     stuck around my veins

It sets me onto fire
Letting its own creation burn
For the sake of its pleasures
As the luscious woods burn to just skeletons and dust
The hollow eyes filling with the shadows of the light
As it snarls
A twisted caricature of a smile

She was an angel, a radiant light too brilliant for my shadowed soul. And I—nothing more than a beast marked by scars, unworthy of her grace. Yet somehow, she found beauty in my flaws and chose to dance in the darkness with me.