• Frankenstein's Monster

    You, a safegaurd from bitter winds, howling rain,
    phantom wolves with swirling, sulphurous cloaks of poverty and hunger,
    stalking the perpetual night of medieval ignorance,
    steam and foam lathering on frostbit, ivory muzzles.
    Bring fire and comfort, security and warmth,
    tempered glass houses with built-in Gods,
    caterer to the slightest whim, celestial jester,
    entertainer to a sea of bright eyed children, giggling at illusions
    fireworks, and pratfalls, elegant, yet juvenile.

    You, a dirty, fetid troll, crouched in stagnant cesspool,
    beneath the bridge to prosperity. A dire toll you will take,
    willingly or unwillingly given, it matters not.
    For your filth caked claws toil tirelessly, vainly dropping the tired,
    burned-out souls of your customers,
    dropping them into the bottomless cavern of your fiery gullet.
    Consume wihtout thought or conscience, burn all before you,
    fierce fire of irony, send the universe flying in a tummult of
    grey, sorrowful ash.

    Just one kiss of your nicotene lips,
    epileptic diamonds glint in your kaleidoscope sockets,
    sweet, biting embrace of your sputtering, sparking, spiraling snakes,
    hissing bitter love and sour malice with tongues of Prometheus gold.


    You, my beloved creation.

    Why don't you love your master?