In the shackles of unknown
Lies a beast, a beast with hunger of blood, flesh and everything in between...
A beast that thrives on chaos
His heart being darker than obsidian itself
Yet he stares into his soul for luminescence
But to his disdain he finds none...
None and yet he grins
Grins as he stalks towards the battered and bruised
Lying there unconscious absolutely with no roof
He digs his knife right as he scoots
Blood spluttering all over his face
As the animosity grews
He's wearing his intestines now
Circled around his neck in a loop
In the middle lies the lifeless corpse
The corpse of the battered and bruised

Interlocking his eyes with mine he whisper shouts as he moves ...
"let me out of these shackles and I'll show you how it grews"
I stumble back from the shock as the truth finds its roots Digging a hole in my ashes, I pull it with those screws Shackling my beast again is all that I do
Yet he roars beneath my skin to let my hold loose
I shove it back beneath those ashes
Till he convulses beneath my hold
Letting it scream in the oblivion
In the shackles of my throne.....

~Scythe

© scythe