Of the numerous murdered beasts we shall speak, my favourite one sees himself as murderee damsel and not murderer beast
Do I blame him? Do I push him to believe he isn’t one?
Why kill the dream that soiled my own heart?
I chose not to be the damsel and tuned myself to become the beast
Yet I reek of revenge from the ones who helped the damsel and not the beast
Was playing the part so hard that I gave up easy or was I meant to be the beast always? I don’t fail to seek