When life was lived in fetid love,
eons spent to please and appease.
The many mannequins that stood beside
scampered away when woe betide.
In that moment the beast was born,
beaten and bruised but no malice borne.
In the silence of unnamed nights,
his howls can still be heard,
not for loss and neither for love,
simply for the life that could’ve been.
For he who was shunned and shamed,
Only the darkest nights knew his name.