I find myself in a place surrounded by lions.
My muscles may tense with the rage that powers them
Yet I cannot bring myself to strike at my enemies.
I yearn to strike back, rend them limb from limb as they do me.
Yet irregardless of how much I burn, how much I stir,
My arms will not budge, they will not strike.
Oh how I long... To let them feel as I,
To forget my humanity, to strike without remorse..
With that same animal fury as they, so unrelenting.
But to do so, is to walk into the same corrupting fires
That blaze about them, oh how those fires burn.
Even as I bid my heart, become as stone..
It constantly reminds me it is made of flesh.
And not made for such dark ends...
Whether 'tis to be the greatest fool of them all
or weakest creature of all, I bid it to end
before I look back upon all my memories
as just another picture to burn.
-- Tue Apr 29 23:06:04 UTC 2008