The Beast Inside
At times when I expect it least
I feel the stirrings of the beast
that hides within the deepest part
of my unholy, hollow heart
and daily sallies forth to feast.
That beast can only be controlled,
it can't be slain, or so I'm told.
My guardian angel does her best
to keep the beast at peace, at rest,
my crowded heart so well patrolled.
My muse keeps watch throughout the day,
views the beast at work and play,
my angel clinging to the reins,
the beast clanging in his chains.
The muse, amused, has much to say.