• Take to the thing with hatchet hacks
    Or better still a duly sharpened knife
    Red dyed and dead let not be said
    'The thing is still alive'
    Putting the beat down softly
    Leave it room yet still to grow
    And as a grey flag does not yet rise
    Peace would be never known
    For the beast dose shift and thus it is
    A newer beast be born
    Hooked claws and hungry maws kept open till the end
    A familiar fright full thing one might just call a friend.
    Fear it for thought it is a thing of pain
    Pain it will not feel
    So varied this thing of many things
    So sharp and yet ever dull
    Cuts so deep but must beat you dead
    Why? It does not know
    Its barberry knows no bound
    Harshest is its withering kiss
    For then we remain above the ground
    A revenant slave to what it is as we reminisce

    Take note thou who art kind of heart
    Do not let its kind words goad
    A thought of turning it to
    How it was so long ago
    For though it is not impossible
    Opening your throat is the gentler way to go
    This thing that breaths in your breath and haunts every opening door
    Is hard yet to quell or kill
    Any tempest storm

    Fools and cowards
    The weak of mind, or heart
    Allow this loathsome thing to breed
    That rips the sane apart
    For all this said
    And all it does this beast be more proudly borne
    Than the ache of deaths cold rape
    Of it's other softer form
    Still with a tearful kiss
    Or without a single sigh
    A braver one must leap upon
    With hang mans rope or a sliver stroke
    It's death is timely come