The Beast I-The Beast and Its Wings

In darkness begins our mystery;

of mist and smoke and fog

Where boy to man our hero becomes,

and where friend is made from foe

His birth all quaint and normal like,

his parentage hath no claim

His eyes alight with candle bright

like man who has no shame

Yet till one day he hath not feared,

nor learned his fate this way

A fearsome meet and foe well met,

entered into to the fray.

Our hero stands amongst the few,

that fight against this threat

Our hero stands amongst the few,

and gets what he can get

He stands aloft and stands aloof,

heart pounding; racing fast

He stands amongst the battle-clad field,

atop the blood-red grass

Where dragons breath meets human gain

and history comes enflamed

Where blood-red eyes and swords of steel

shine brightly all the same.

His body shakes, his brow all sweat,

his hands shake fearsomely

His sword all raised above thine head

and posed so solemnly.

His eyes alight with feeling bright,

locked, into the fray

The beast looks down, his eyes of steel

look on in sheer dismay

The beast looks on at this, our hero

standing still, eyes on the game.

The beast looks on and gruffly snuffs

and sets forth a stream of flame.

The boy, our hero, stutters back;

takes shelter behind his shield

Then looks on shaking, the beasts eye gleaming

flame subsided, the beast hath heeled

The beast's head rears and thrusts forth sharp,

cuts through the boy's defence

He takes the shield into his mouth,

the end, the boy can sense.

The beast now faced with our hero alone

as his throat begins to drum

The boy's weapon drops, he kneels in fear

for what hath he to become

The beast looks on with gleaming eyes,

his muzzle thrusting forth

He taps the boy on forehead twice

and pulls his face up north

"Be still, good boy, and have no fear

for i've no will to fight

You've proven your own bravery

by showing of your plight

I've lived more years than you can count,

nor could ever know there was

But being feared, reviled, not loved

is a life but not with cause

I've lived so long i've come to hate

the creature which i am

To hurt so many with not single act

fake misdeeds batted like a ram

So strike me now, good boy I pray,

and claim your victory

Your heart is pure, your actions right

at least you, will set me free"

With that said he dips his head,

and gives the boy his brand

And tears doth drop down beastly face,

to wait for death's cold hand

Author's Note

This is full of symbolism. What is the beast? Is it perhaps Human? Is there a Moral? What type of beast is it? What does the beast actually represent? What does the title represent? Why do you keep asking metaphorical questions? (sorry, had to :P)

Reviews

[Seyi Ojenike]

What an irony at the end... How the weak gain victory in situations of their own defeat, sometimes working for it, other times not. Nice imagery, I could feel the rising climax, its like watching a movie and wanting to see what happens next. Lovely poem