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About This Poem
The Few Who Conquer the Beast
Ah! The beast rolls his tongue in your blame
he knows all actions and pretensions that
cause you shame
Too afraid to face your shame, you play his game.
Thinking you get away with it
the beast knows when your hell is legit
and he takes you from inside
Steals your pride. He owns you,
don't you see- you can't fight eternity.
Praying is the selfish way to keep the beast at bay
but eventually he finds you
eventually he owns you.
Few, honored, few revered
few people have nothing to fear.
Only if one can spiritually conquer the beast-
Few shall taste the sweet fruits of Heaven's feast-
Less you conquer your personal beast.
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