Beast Instrument

There's a beast that lives inside of my head,
Thrashing it's claws against my skull,
And ripping at my eyeballs.

It is in humanely cruel,
It is unforgivably violent.
It is controlling and profoundly wicked.

On some days the creature sleeps
And I am no longer it's puppet.
I live in fear of when it will awaken again,
Destroying my mind,
Destroying my will.

My pain lives inside of me.
I can't see it and neither can you.
Expelling this beast has proved ineffective,
I live with a constant misery
Or a tireless dread of awakening the beast.

This is my existence and I have accepted my fate.
The beast controls me,
But the beast does not define me.