Beasts Poem by Neil Graham Marsden

What of this beast of shallow mind
that preys upon the meek and kind,
whose marble heart beats cold and still
whilst searching out the meek of will.

These hungry monsters stalk the night
as innocent new hearts take flight,
their lives, their loves, their minds it seems
are features of this monster’s dreams.

Once drawn into its darkened lair
where nightmare visions shall compare
to others who had passed before
now fled beyond that hate-locked door.

Their memories and blackened souls
shocked eyes resembling empty holes,
their desecration now complete
shamed heads cast down to lifeless feet.

Why would these ogres, free to play
remove the love from every day,
then swear fidelity to the death
whilst choking perfume taints the breath.

Who are these ghouls who shed no light
inflicting pain for own delight,
that stuff their face on home-made food
then screw their wives whate'er their mood.