Colin F. Jones

THE LESSER BEAST

From dictatorial torment I agree,
From lack of choice set me free,
To play it by sweet nature’s laws,
With all her truth and savage claws.
That God the myth condemns me not,
That his false priests don’t have me shot,
For choosing to walk the other way,
Unafraid to speak and have a say.
That I may go according to,
The truth my eyes do clearer view,
For only superstition needs to sell,
The dread that one might go to Hell.
For the morning Sun will rise and fall,
Until the night en-cloaks us all.

©Copyright March 2, 2005 by Colin F. Jones

Author’s Note: A friend sent the following “familiar” poem a few days ago, to which I decided to reply as above.

THE BEAST

How can I be really “free”
When any tutor defines who’s me?
Should I not be free to choose
And play it my way---win or lose?

Without a guide, without a road,
I can be the Me I chose.
Without a God or tutor’s song
I’ll worry not what’s right, what’s wrong.

So here I come, My Laws only do I see,
History is full of such as me.
Run for your life, and hide thee well
For I AM The Beast God Sent to hell.