The beast inside it slumbers waiting seeking an opportunity to feed Anger, hate malevolence finds a breeding den in me You speak you push inciting rage to raise its head You hit you twist ignoring the vicious monster you have fed It's possession takes me over writhing with each scathing word you've said Claws contract A growl ensues brimming your spiteful eyes with dread Your words they cease acknowledging the fire with which you played Claws they rend crimson spews staining the path down which you've strayed The beast has fed it slumbers down awaiting the next convenient chance to test I feel with tonight's transgression finally my malevolence has found its rest
Reminded me of a few scenes in Van Helsing where the Werewolf tears off the human flesh to become the monster. I sense some anger is being directed to someone or thing. Cool write Lady.
Sometimes what passes as "malevolence at rest" is in reality only the beginning of the true feast. Your words always fill me, yet leave me hungry for more. -- Jeff
oh my, Danielle! That graphic is enough to give one nightmares!;-)
This is a superb dark poem that gives me the same chills the pic does. Are you trying to keep me awakw all night;-)? JK! Great work!
Not me Felix, I am pure as the driven snow. Uh, that's three-old-day snow after it has been driven on, sloshed around in and generally become sloppy and nasty stuff. THAT'S me alright. Good.
The fortunate inherit riches, prestige, positive notoriety. Those not so lucky bear legacies filled with poverty, infamy or, worse yet, the unhinged insanity and murderous urges of their ancestors.
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Gary
This is a superb dark poem that gives me the same chills the pic does. Are you trying to keep me awakw all night;-)? JK! Great work!
Love,
Eileen
Good gracious, I love this write! That drawing only increases the strength of your words--well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Bobbi
Love Tinka
Felix