Grip Of The Beast

Fell has moonlight

up onto me to feast.

The night it calls for

my raw inner beast.

Urgent is my basis I

launch eyes into sky.

Unto me I mundane

came a fiery war cry.

I fight such a decent

thought it went away

at sounds of laughter

the devil sent my way.

I’m but a man simple

though capable am I

of wrought fits lust it

shapes an idle mind.

If you were to look at

my mind it was numb.

Yet in an instant came

thunder as if a drum.

Restraint makes me,

tempered in the flame,

a discerning form of

a beast given a name.

Inside driving impulse

I steer to correct paths

that lead to what beasts

now and never do have.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Katherine says:

    Nice poem, Jared !

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you my dear!!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Katherine says:

        You welcome! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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