"Записки недопросветленного [поэзия]" - читать интересную книгу автора (Лайтбрингер Тимонг)

Зверь внутри

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, And pain now serves as some sort of rite With no means to heal the tortured soul … There is but no cure for things that are foul. No target to strike, no foe to fight … That doesn't look good, that cannot be right! And all of the might have too died within, It sank in the void and cannot be seen. Nowhere to go, no reason to live... Until it's gone you will never thrive, You might gnaw it through - yours life golden cage, But that'll only feed this beast's endless rage. You cannot escape, you may only hide, But this beast can wait - for he is your Pride, It may sleep for long in souls like sky, But he is eternal - and thus cannot die. You will once submit, you cannot resist, For will long have gone, for road always twist... It will be the greatest and fiercest beast For ones lost in fog, for those lost in mist. And one day your eyes you will sacrifice To obey his orders in search of a prize, You will start to live in dreams of your size Once your foul Pride will be on the rise. Stop running for now, and face him alone - And face him in battle, face him being prone, Face him being poor, face him being rich, And have once the courage to lay him in siege! You cannot escape, you may only hide, But this cannot help - for he is inside. Once being awoken it will bite and tear, And what is the worst - he sleeps just so near…