The Shadow Within

A monster that dreams,

sleeps by any means,

only to wake up in cold fury,

in freezing vengeance,

it spills the blood we find so alluring.

Never seen, we catch glimpses,

ripping my mind it minces.

The evil in laughter,

the joy in rancor,

run or hide,

dread the coming of the tide.

Too late had I turned to see,

the monster that sleeps, in my eyes takes hold of me.

The strength of a shadow,

rends my hallowed bone.

The dark does sleep,

death glaring into the eyes of the weak.

Yet it is those most frail,

whose deathly power does entail,

the kindness of an end,

and the cruelty of a begging.

The reaper comes to take my hand,

a jovial friend,

Only now do I see,

the sting of his brand,

An eye most human,

Christened upon my monstrous skin.

Death smiles with a joke,

and in his eyes,

a child is summoned forth.

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