Know enough already,
Of cruelty.
Show me love.
That’s what I know little of.
So bare bones,
In experience.
False,
At the best of times.
Perhaps that’s,
What mutated me.
A first molting,
A second.
Shedding personality –
Identity,
Man.
Child.
Man.
Cryptid.
These glowing orange embers,
Kept alive in the dark,
With every pull in.
Which self,
Do you deserve?
The Tyrant?
The World Serpent?
Worse?
Give me your want.
So I can play mirror.
Reflecting it back upon you.
The Tenfold Divinity.
Feed your beast,
To keep it chained.
They scorn,
People like us.
Until they need a monster.
Someone always needs a monster.
Refusing to play the part.
Aye,
You can damn me,
For my hundred sins.
But know I’ll answer –
To no god.
I’m the bastard left to die,
Scattered across the dregs,
In a thousand pieces.
You have no right,
Over any wildlings such as us.
Our dozen masks.
The kinds of gods I know,
Ask for intimate flayings,
Alive.
All for information,
Or experience.
They’re worth killing.
Them & their machines.
Lucky me,
I have my own.
Wrought in science,
Wielded for humanism.
A vicious cranial throbbing,
Pulsing in the ears.
Headache reaching crescendo.
Can you see,
By now?
Why us wretches,
Are so interested –
In such foreign concepts,
As kindness?
Shouting for love,
Into lonely winds.
I’d bet my scales,
Thy heart?
Weighs much more than any feather,
Upon golden scales.
Still,
What can I do but trust?
Give me your hearts.
Your minds.
Promise,
I do.
Someone Always Needs A Monster.
