The Beast
A simple white rose,
a box of shining seeds;
before I knew these
I was losing hope.
Jealousy
was a raging disease
eating into the core of this place...
There was a time
in ancient days
when many beings of every race
walked upon this ground...
Giants, ogres, witches...
Magicians, fairies, and elves,
as well as humans
unique unto themselves.
A human Prince
who in his youth sought an alliance -
could not unite them
in defiance.
He was a young man
who would be ruler of the land,
yet even he
refused the hand
of one who found him vain.
And so, he was cursed -
and it was
the Beast that he became.
His body, mind and castle
are this enchanted place...
"For you must keep the Secret!
And never reveal what happened
to your original face...
Or what you need, or feel
until a day when
Beauty finds you
and loves you back
to being real.
And all you know
shall be frozen in time
secluded in your heavy skins
until you change your mind."
Tricks of enchantment
anchored me into his world;
heart and hands torn and bleeding
pushing past the thorns
around his soul.
He was kind... And did his best
to put a common ground beneath my feet -
but he was a Beast
who could not sit and eat -
a wild thing, who had to learn
to hunt for sustenance;
his food, his meat.
Accepting his fate and anger,
he never showed his fears;
instead his feelings flooded through me
as confused and angry tears.
For anger is a mystery
dividing those
struggling to see
how it happens, they are apart.
And yet I know His eyes... Are my eyes
His mouth, my lips;
His heart... My heart.
This is our common ground;
a simple rose, a box of seeds
thorns piercing each and every wound...
This all must be allowed,
like some spiritual crucifixion,
surrendering.
Where pain and anger are dissolved,
transformation can begin
a new resolve;
a self-realization,
allowing the spiritual in.
Burning away such curses
to let two new loves grow...
Such Beauty, these white roses...
Bursting through the snow.
c) Orandon Marie 1/28/11
anchored me into his world;
heart and hands torn and bleeding
pushing past the thorns
around his soul.
He was kind... And did his best
to put a common ground beneath my feet -
but he was a Beast
who could not sit and eat -
a wild thing, who had to learn
to hunt for sustenance;
his food, his meat.
Accepting his fate and anger,
he never showed his fears;
instead his feelings flooded through me
as confused and angry tears.
For anger is a mystery
dividing those
struggling to see
how it happens, they are apart.
And yet I know His eyes... Are my eyes
His mouth, my lips;
His heart... My heart.
This is our common ground;
a simple rose, a box of seeds
thorns piercing each and every wound...
This all must be allowed,
like some spiritual crucifixion,
surrendering.
Where pain and anger are dissolved,
transformation can begin
a new resolve;
a self-realization,
allowing the spiritual in.
Burning away such curses
to let two new loves grow...
Such Beauty, these white roses...
Bursting through the snow.
c) Orandon Marie 1/28/11
