Within the caverns of my soul there lives a being ancient, grim,
Who stalks the tunnels bringing death to all the hopes and yearned for dreams.
Roaring his pain and his rejection loud, to echo through the dank remains,
Of childhood lost and teenage years, of adulthood now flying past.
Obscene of feature, black of soul, fetid and broken with the years,
He lurks in shadows, destroys the light, and kills the glimmer every dawn.
This beastial thing, held captive by sheer iron will, seeking escape into the world,
Held only by the thinnest thread from bringing destruction on men’s heads.
Death will not claim this the rotted, twisting fiend for even he is scared.
What hand can crush the skull so thick and merging brain into the dirt?
Bring sweet relief to sunlight worlds. No, no one so it is my task,
Guardian of that twisted realm, to lock the door and to stand fast.
Wandering lonely, echoing halls. Knowing one day that I must face,
The beast itself, the monster raw, and know that I can never win.
So straining eye and withering limbs, need to walk on ignoring ghosts,
Slowly becoming mire and muck, and keep my eyes from looking up.
All windows high they carry bars. The door is thick, portcullis dropped.
No it will not escape to harm, those that I loved and those who cared.
No more will I take childish me, and sacrifice him at love’s door,
Feeding the beast again with heart, so gladly given yet left scorched.
In doing so I feed the one who ravages and flays my life.
No rather should I, will I die alone, away from dreams and lies.


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