Thinking animal

I am an animal with razor claws to tear at your flesh and eat that precocious heart that beats so hollow.

Do not even dare to bask at me with cowardice or resentment when before you had such high respect and

fondness.

My instinct is rash and primal.

It casts me afloat from the dangerous pillars that tower indefinitely.

How does infinite animosity taste when you rise from that absurd and despicable slumber?

I favor its calling and wait for it happily every new night at the hours past twilight.

Do you love my savage beauty that alienates you from me?

Does it batter everything you hold dear or sacred?

Ignoring my atrocities that I pour will only fuel the old pyre.

So, look at me without disdain as I jump into the pages of unholiness and madness.

The madness that only us animals welcome in the other side of realism.

The passage to this immortal and lasting world will ravage your reason, disrupt your visions, and kill the

smallest treasure as it turns your offspring into me.

Look at me, the animal so primal and so wicked.

An untamable animal with long fur to shade my thoughts from ominous lookers and clockmakers.

Glance briefly me penetrating the very scruples holding your divinity together and shattering the morals

and sects in your finite life.

Praise the rash instinct that you suppress so unequivocally amongst the stars that shine and the moon that guides me home nightly.

It is bare and dead to you all.

When will you come out of the misguided sacrifices, created in treason to memory and innocence, which

lies deeply with in you?

When will you shed the skins of man and howl with me?