The walls that detain the tortured beast,

Scream and tell him he has sinned,

Alone he sips the nectar of misery and yearns for his demise,

He is undone by his lies,

Reflecting on the years he has lost,

Mourns for those who loved him,

But could not escape his wretched fate,

It’s too late,

His memories are his savior and curse,

He learns to smile through the tears,

And convince the world he’s alright,

But he longs for the night,

When a veil of darkness grants him it’s peace,

Shields him from the curious eyes,

And the demons that would hold him accountable for his sins,

He begs for forgiveness but won’t accept it,

He is his own judge and executioner,

And sentences himself to a fate worse than death,

Alone he acquires the means for his torture,

He laughs at redemption, denounces salvation,

And silently mocks the merciful hand,

Pain becomes the color of his skin,

Bitter are the tears he cannot hold back,

How he longs for a primitive state,

To curl up to his mother’s bosom,

While she soothes him and feeds him her love,

He longs for that safe, peaceful place,

But he will never find it,

For the walls take the faces of those he has hurt,

They scold him for his betrayal and demand reparations,

For the life that he stole,

He prostrates himself to his captors,

Pleads, and begs and cries and prays,

Stands naked before them,

Exposing his every fear and insecurity,

The scrutinous eyes deem him unworthy,

Shrill howls pierce the air as they bleed from their souls,

The beast assumes a subordinate pose,

And waits for the agony to cease,

Poor beast,

Poor little creature in his maddening world,

Pleading with voices that no one else hears,

Suffering at hands only he can detect,

His punishment is absolute,

The walls the detain the tortured beast,

That make up his miserable, pitiful home,

Convince him to bear his beatings in silence,

Remind him that he is forever alone.