The Beast...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The beast...

Submitted: June 24, 2008

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Submitted: June 24, 2008



The witching hour is near,

It wakes, for it is all we fear,

This is no demon born from hell

Nor an angel which from heaven fell,

This is a being, which over time grew strong.

Each day he slumbers lighter, soon it won’t be long.

The number of this beast is not known, nor its name.

It has no destination, or an origin from whence it came.

The beast lives among us, yet is seen or heard by none.

It arrived with creation, and will remain past the dying sun.

Will its reign ever end? Will its death ever be seen?

it is not so, man will long pass before its end is foreseen.

Question your heart as to what it is why it is

How can one doubt a beast, that does not exist?

How can one believe in something which is so?

This none can answer but time alone will show.

When a child tosses and turns in the depths of sleep,

Know it is the innocent child that the beast keeps.

Showing him what has passed and what is yet to come.

Screams and shouts, salvation comes only with the rising sun.

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