The Bestial Man

What better way to start than with my favourite piece: The Bestial Man.

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Feral like a night creature,
Like a stray cat with less hair.
Bestial, war mongering,
Like a daemon.

Swim in ethers like a swan
Of awe and wond’r o’er along.

Feral like the woods at night.
Screams in the dark, sigh mortal wear.
Ravaging, hunter gathering.
Like a daemon.

Shine on marble like a sundial,
Cast a shadow, grim and vile.

And some say, he has red horns.
Some say he himself is red.
To cast such havoc, he was sworn.
Well the Bestial Man said,
‘Don’t you know, God is dead’

And when,
Passion outwits anger,
In a show of chauvinism.
Pull back your wrist, slap it again,
And cast it to the schism.

Well look up to the sky,
A greyish hue, approaching nigh,
The end is imminent.

Anon, the Bestial Man, he cries,
‘Don’t you be a sucker for love’ he sighs,
This is only my defence.

Once was feral like a night creature,
Like a stray cat with less hair.
Bestial, war mongering, with a twist.
Like a daemon, or an angel.
You never can tell until you
check the wing span.

Well, the war drums a drumming.
Sound the trumpets, launch attacks,
Because the end is surely coming.
Because the evil seems to leak
Through the parametric cracks.
In the paranormal world,
And the cynosure seems to stretch.
‘And all this for a girl’, ‘No,
A woman. No, a Wench’

And the rotting hue and stench,
From the rotting human bodies.
His camaraderie held up like a stent.
Like an embolism, rose and fell.
Well, we were stroking.
Speechless, left side dead.
To the Bestial Man, no hope besieged!

So came to pass, the fall of human kind,
Waited every night and day, hoping for a sign,
And then a reddish hue took over,
A reddish being, grand, benign.

He came and offered me a quill,
And shot me with his bow of plague.
He said, sign o’er to me your soul,
And this fiendish war will end.

Echoing professors, signed my soul
To the Bestial Man.
Into the schism cast, myself upon,
A reign and rain of blood and dust.

Feral like a night creature,
Like a stray cat with less hair.
Bestial, war mongering,
Like a daemon.

Swim in ethers, no air, no light.
Such is the blight, when you’ve lost your life.

Rejoice the war is o’er, yet,
I crumble into sand.
‘Don’t you let the mortals forget,
How I once made a stand’
Against the Bestial Man.

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About thegreatestpoetalive

The best kept secret of the nobilitas. Skillfully crafting words in ways thought not possible, this weaver of language and dastardly diction creates moments, memories and feelings from the pixels in front of you.
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