The Beast

Cold hands and bare feet,

walking down the lip.

Mouth shut, but eyes wide open,

No word should be spoken.

Nose smells the weight of despair,

ears listening, fully aware.

Body drags like a beast,

feeling human, at least.

Head wrangling, crawling,

arms down, endlessly falling.

The void is there in that despair,

trying not to roll, caught in the air.