Avarice the Beast

You are an evil, twisted boy

Disguised in a man’s body.

Lasciviously lurking

Under beds and

Hiding in dark closets.

My truest opinion of you would not be fit for a status update.

It would shame you and call name to your brand of evil.

Avarice the Beast.

You’re a monster devouring the breath of small children.

Licking up their little dreams, haunting them in their sleep, rapaciously squeezing every Dimes worth of their priceless souls.

She screams in silence – where no one can hear her - and

Swallows your potions and pills, but even

Sixty-two blocks and eleven years away her cries awaken her mother.

Breath stolen.

Stillness in the room and a piercing blade through her heart -

Pasting and pounding an inarticulate and mournful cry.

When you shut your eyes, is hell all you see?

Is that why you never sleep?

Capturing, calculating, consuming is what you do.

In eleven years, the time totaled is less than one.

For every year you keep her is another lifetime of your own demise.

Your demons, kept chained and starved, wait eagerly

For their rise and your fall.

Your eyes can see

Yet you are blind to the mindfulness between good and evil.

Evil turns you on, until it turns on you 

and takes you down -

Too fast, too hard, too strong for you to handle

Awake, you can no longer control the fear that consumes you;

Or so I keep telling myself.