Peek through the blinds and you might baulk
To see what hides, what rotting mouth stays mute
Masked all in fleeing flight, those furs well met
And how simple rhythm paints over the crack.
Released black bile boils through; words choke
Scorched, still flaming; a mercy blight
Would strike and quieten this evil plight
Inside a lycan, head reared and barking, how routine grates.
Beastly and brave, the outer skin they mock
And you, so resilient, so calm; I will spit
If you tell me your mind is tortured not,
That your art does not flail, like standstill traffic:
What if Were resigned to normality and the state,
Another unmarked artiste of the broken epoch?
