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That fateful day, It slipperily slunk,
The shrewd and crafty Beast

And with Its slithery tongue It struck
Two hearts, and hell released

A fateful day! A fateful dint!
…The Fall of the Beloved

But then and there One gave the hint
Of rescue from Above


That fateful day the Beast would bite
The heel of The Great King

But He, in turn, would crush Its head –
Death’s prisoners would sing:

“The fateful Day eternity told,  
Foreknown before the world!

The Lion came, brave and bold –
The Lamb slain from of old!”


And so, that fateful day was but
A part in the Grand Scheme

One fateful Day He’d come indeed
To ransom and redeem

That fateful Day upon a cross
He breathed His final breath:

“It is finished!” was His cry;
The death of death in death.

Flay me, shroud my body
in Saran wrap, for others to see
what you mean to me: a relief
map of live suffering,
writhing organs in a plastic bag,
a human soup to drag
behind you, sensitive to everything you do,
overflowing with formless worship,
pink, raw and dreaming
of a vicious kinship:
Open yourself and slip my parts in,
we can exist, two hideous beasts
within a single beautiful skin.
I am huddled in the coroner,
a little beast within a man,
And when at night he studies bodies,
I come out,
now and again.
S R Mats Oct 18
Dear pussycat, you clever little beast
To hide the paws that hid the claws
That shred my pretty face.

Feline, fooled as I was to forget
Within your blood wildness simmered
Just beneath the folds and crease;

Of eyes that looked asleep!
Never put your face close to the face of an unknowable cat.
You may be older by little,
You may not have all the greatest of looks,
Your teeth are as rotten as coal.
You may be skinny as bones....

But to me, i see....

A man with a loving smile,
A man who has deep ocean blue eyes that glow up a room every time you cry,
A man with a heart and soul,
Tender lover.

An imperfect man can seem so strange,
until you see the other side of his world,
where a man so *******, or beast like....
becomes a man you see through your eyes...
that you truly,


I love a beast
this restless beast
i need to tame
gnawing at my stomach
setting fires to my cerebral
chewing at my throat
begging for attention
this restless beast
always rejects obedience
howling for affection
like a ******* mongrel
if it's voice becomes a whimper
can it be feminine again
i want my makeup to wash off
as more than war paint
i want to feel beautiful
without seeking validation
i want to shake
this restless beast
ruining my relationships
entertaining wicked thoughts
wrecking my sleep schedule
stepping on my neck
i never asked to own
this worn out excuse for a companion
but if it doesn't get lost soon
i'll ******* **** it
lust is a hash of eyes
lust is a hash of a beast
2 eyes is a hash of the beast
2 eyes is a hash of lust
2 eyes is a hash of eyes
2 eyes is a hash of beauty
2 eyes is the beauty of the beast

beauty is the ironing of the beast
beauty is the ironing of the eyes
beauty is a ironing lust
lust is a ironing lust
lust is a ironing beauty
lust is a ironing beast
the beast is the ironing of the beast

2 eyes of the beast is 2 eyes of a ironing beast
2 eyes of the beast is 2 eyes of a ironing beauty
2 eyes of the beast is 2 eyes of a ironing lust
2 eyes of the beast is 2 eyes of a hash beauty
beauty is a hash of beauty
beauty is a hash of the beast
beauty is a hash of lust
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… this poem is about the distant is the distant between beauty and the beast. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
by Michael R. Burch

When I am lain to rest
and my soul is no longer intact,
but dissolving, like a sunset
diminishing to the west ...

and when at last
before His throne my past
is put to test
and the demons and the Beast

await to feast
on any morsel downward cast,
while the vapors of impermanence
cling, smelling of damask ...

then let me go, and do not weep
if I am left to sleep,
to sleep and never dream, or dream, perhaps,
only a little longer and more deep.

Published by Romantics Quarterly and The Chained Muse. This is an early poem from my “Romantic Period” that was probably written in my late teens. Keywords/Tags: death, eternity, eternal rest, sunset, west, demons, beast, judgment, sleep, dream, nightfall, night, throne, vapor, vapors, impermanence
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