The Beast

The eyes of the beast can be misleading,
Even in the darkest light,
But when it comes that the on the last evening,
The beast shall find that he has no more fight.

The sky will crack with crashing thunder,
And the rain will fall,
The screams will wake the sleeping from slumber,
While the beast lays dying with his back to the wall.

He will cry to anyone who cares,
Waiting for an answer,
Until he sees a reflection standing there,
Its pale pallor and transparency holding no answers.

He examines the person in front of him,
He flinches at the sight,
A raging man stares back at him,
Red eyes, dark  hair, made to make any one jump in fright.

He opens his mouth to speak,
So does the beast,
In that moment he dares to peak,
As he sees that he realizes that he is the beast.