The Beast

by

Pafu

You push past and find a seat
The march begins and they appear
In brocaded vests and cheers
Then silence, for the beast is near.

Trumpets are his entrance cry
Strong as ten of your kind
Always moving towards the foe
Muscle pushing piercing horn.

Who would fight him honestly
Knows that his is victory
Always was, always will be
So face him with humility.

If then you would know fear
Come into the grand arena
Dressed in a distracting cape
Treading roses as they fade.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at A Play of Nations and Cancelations
by: Adam Gosha
from: Rochester, MN, US

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