Feeding Time.

Unknown intentions merge with cliche words,

eloquently accentuating the invisible tension

residing in this benign yet all-too-demonic vessel.

As the clock continues to measure meaningless measurements,

the heart of the beast continues to whisper its deadly rhythm.

The caged thing waits.

Selfish, pure

evil thoughts, wishes, and

concerns

envelop themselves in masterful disguises

coated with the bittersweet persona of 

a certain muscle that beats its deceitful rhythms.

Creeping through the dark corridors of the mind,

distorting every thought and discarding every care.

Reality sets in.

The beast must be fed.