The beast
he bleeds
he gives
for needs
desires
never spoken
a shadow dances
for one and all
nightly entertainment
from your wall
as the carbon boy
listens and speaks
misunderstood by all
a husk hollow
and forlorn
faces skyward
to a broken star
all alone
his back
against a willow tree
where a heart
was killed and buried
so very long ago
turns upon its grave
the monster that you see
imagine
it is me
the living fiction
one and all
all the same
hidden in this
cursed box
freedom given
in slavers locks
Kaloriinn, James. Mason
About the Creator
Kaloriinn Mason
I have been writing for years.. I don't have much posted here, considering everything I have or have lost over time. I have been writing songs and turning old works into music lately
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More stories from Kaloriinn Mason and writers in Poets and other communities.
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith4 days ago in Humor
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