The Beast

A dream of form in

days of thought, art of the eyes

and heart of the mind.

What could be more than

shadows of yore? Giving sight

to those that are blind.

Who would have thought of

quite such a flaw? What a waste,

that beast,

it was I.

Author's Note

I’ve never been much of a one for writing poetry, but this I’m quite happy with. Each stanza is a haiku, which gives me extra smug points :)