My entry into the final topic—Topic 10: Beasts, for the Stop The Press Challenge. The challenge runs through November 30th, so make sure you give it a try.



There once was a lone child,
known to be meek and mild,
but hidden from them all,
like a warm wind in fall,
he had a beast that was nothing but wild.

Made of claws and teeth and fiery red eyes,
it was held by a cage made of woven lies,
but soon it would break,
for no one can wait
for the end of that which never dies.

So what happened was this.

The child spoke to the beast,
not afraid in the least.
The beast told him what to do,
And made him promise something, too.

That he would let him run free and wild.

So the cage was unlatched.
An endless evil was tapped.
And the world felt something new.

Some years later,
the child asked why,
for he had long forgotten
the cage made of lies.

The beast had grown stronger,
and taller and vaster,
the apotheosis of power,
it bowed to no master.

When the beast gave an answer,
the child was frightened.
It hadn't been freed for this,
yet its grip on the world tightened.

So the child fought.

The child fought the beast
from the west to the east
never predicting what would happen
when the thing chose to feast.

At last the beast struck back.

The fire! The power! A single strike of claws
brought so much strength with it
it seemed the very Heavens would applaud!
at the marvel of this beast,
the simple, wondrous ruin
that it set upon the world
what a magnificent bruin!

But its strike back was deadly,
not to its enemies but to itself,
for when it released its power on the child,
it struck its liberator,
its creator,
and when the dust had cleared,
the child had fallen,
and so had its creation.

The mightiest things are defeated by the mightiest blows
brought upon them by themselves.

So says the
story of the meek
ruled by the strong,
felled by the fury.