The Beast

The Beast
By K.J. Wortendyke

 

There is a creature in my chest,
Which dances with my heart,
And plays upon its fearful strings,
The blackest of its art.

These claws upon my tender flesh,
In self-inflicted shades,
Pain keeps the beast inside of me,
An agony stockade.

For if the beast should come unbound,
And its hand become my own,
Then the blood will always run,
And death become its throne.

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“K.J, whose full name of Kenneth John Wortendyke Jr is usually too big to fit through most doorways, is a Senior at Indiana University Bloomington. Currently working on two degrees (English and Informatics) and a minor (Geological Sciences), K.J. spends his free time learning new stories in whatever form they may come in. He sometimes has an idea or a line that sounds alright and attempts to write it down. His favorite book is James O’Barr’s The Crow”

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