You Don’t Know Me

Flames of fire licked the cauldron of his emotions,
Ever taunting the anger that lives in that potion,
Sad and alone, there’s nothing he can do,
To soothe this pain he feels so true.

Then one fine day, the fire licked too close,
Bursting the bubble of emotion, as if on purpose,
Heat comes off his chest, almost giving off a mist,
He clenches his teeth and tightens his fists,
All he sees is red, his blood is pumping so hard,
Everything he does now…is in total disregard.

The man recedes within in time to ponder,

“What’s happening to me?”

“What’s happening to me?”

And in response, a growling voice seemed to answer,

“The beast is free.”

“The beast is free.”

His roars fill the space of what used to be his home,
His blood boils so hot, he feels it in his bones,
His words form no sentences, just grunts and shouts,
His hands, once instruments of wonder, are ready for bouts.
He wants to see blood like a guttural instinct,
He wouldn’t think twice about it,
Not even for an instant.

A brave woman stands in front of what used to be this man,
She wanted to talk reason but he wouldn’t understand,
Only wild and bloodshot eyes stared back at her,
In it what was left of a man was starting to wither,
The only resonating thing he seemed to say,
As she looked into his bloodshot eyes that day,
Was something she thought she’d never ever see,

His eyes seemed to say,

“You don’t know me.”

“You don’t know me.“