The Beast

There lurks within my mind a rampant beast

Whose strength o'rwhelms life's truths and deigns them speak

With mouths of blood. I'm bowed before the bleak

Insipience which serves this bogus priest.

I live enslaved. I'm wrapped with lies; yet creased

By tongues of truth which sap my will and wreak

Their vengeful wrath as though 'there Hell's technique.

"Oh give me eyes!", that I at last may feast.

With jests of Time the beast enthralls his court

And things he ought conceal, his jests allow.

If only clowns were real and beasts were dead!

Great clouds of pain surround the gargoyled fort

Where now I'm held; but then there is no 'now',

Nor 'then', nor 'when'. And hence, the truth is spread.

[circa 1982]

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