The Beast

Can we see the end of this turmoil

The end of the suffering

Many days I watch and wait for the end of it

The blood that seeps onto the floor

That powers his rage

It fuels him

He storms in

The beast

He takes your soul and leaves a husk

You are not dead


You are not alive

You wander lost in the darkness

While the beast

Feasts on your soul

Your sadness

He drains you

When he is done

You wish for death

You beg for it

You cry out for God to take you

But God can not

For you have given yourself over to the beast

And now you are lost

A lost soul

To wander and burn

For all eternity

Photo by Alessio Zaccaria on Unsplash

Poetry In Motion Uncategorized

Becky DiFilippo View All →

I’m a writer… I love to write! I’ve been writing since I was eight years old. I can’t imagine life without stories. My life, and your life it’s a story that we are writing everyday.

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