the beast within

the last of my little poems that I wrote long ago

We sing a merry tune of which the light shall dance
It dances and prances while we take our stances for that we have our chance
That we can choose to win or lose against this terrible foe
Where it will scream “are you ready” and we will answer “NO!”

We yell and charge in a desperate attempt to pierce the beast’s heart
But instead
It bows its head
As its attack starts

It opens its mouth and lets out a terrible wail
The likes of which could not fail
It attempts to end this prolonged battle
My men bow to their knees
to the eastern breeze
as I ease upon my feet while the ground does rattle

The beast moved forward as I stood firm through fears and tears
I saw its form as it moved closer and I saw its head
And dreaded what I saw was me and the beast fell over
dead