In spite ofnA few short yearsnOf painting a crossnOn my façadenThere is nothingnA cheap sensenOf self-appreciationnCan hope to fixnnI remember thenFirst timenWhen I fednThe starving beastnThat lies cagednBetween anWaning sliver ofnCompassion andnMy only true selfnnThe pleasure ofnWatching the monsternDripping with virgin bloodnAnd shattered humanitynSpew out itsnPost-coital cheernAnd digested screamsnThat helplessly trynTo tear themselvesnFrom my petnnI am not anBastard child ofnMy own false waysnSo I won't forgetnThe way her sweet fleshnParted waysnTo lovingly take innThe seeds spat fromnMy malicious IdnnThose screams of nonWere only liesnBecause for a secondnAfter the factnI was a heronIn your eyesnTenderly carrying younInto your gravenThis rugged beastnShowed you whatnA real mannCould do for younnA tearful smilenOn your blank facenWas the first thingnTo ever witnessnThe creature thatnNow breathes for menIn a tantric waynLike you once wishednAnywhere but herennCopyright 2009 Brian The Magician Lovejoy