Beheld

Beauty beheld by a devil Would fury and lust incite Taunting him to revel At things lovely and bright And only annoy and dishevel The beast like a collar too tight. Ugliness happened upon, Say, a carcass that lay in the road, By a being much wiser prompts parallels drawn Between dead dog incisor and silver and gold For to only a saint would it ever dawn On the saint as a thing to behold. Far be it for us to decide If the tendency, blessing or bane, Gives the zealot convenient places to hide Like a judge too lenient on those who bring pain Or the serial killer a lovable side Excused for his natural drive to disdain Or the servant, content to serve, Feeling blessed for being alive While the privileged scoff as they take an hors d'oeuvre As he earns just enough for his child to survive And never once thinks of the nerve Of his master, blinded by drive. If neither side can be dissuaded To yield this same elective, Their perusal, predicated By stubborn refusal to wax objective, Leave both cherished and hated Victims of perspective.