Poor Things / Is the Beast no More

Poor Things / Is the Beast no More

In dreams of flawless flesh, mankind seeks to mold, A creature spun from shadows, desires bold. But perfection's mirror cracks, reflecting back, A monstrous echo, humanity's own track.

A dance with darkness, primal instincts flare, Where empathy and conscience cease to share. Cynicism's grin, a power-hungry leer, Stripped bare, the core of dehumanizing fear.

No gender binds this beast, this savage core, Unchained from rules, where morals stand no more. Just primal needs, a hunger etched in bone, The self a fleeting echo, quickly overthrown.

The phantom hand of control, a grasping fist, Shatters against the truth, a soul unkissed By forced design. Evolution's pulse beats strong, The beast awakens, shedding right and wrong.

Born pure they are, a tapestry unfurled, Basic needs met, forgotten in this world. Wonder in their eyes, a world yet to know, Naivety a shield, where consequences don't grow.

Senses bloom, a thirst for joy unbound, Exploration's song, in every corner found. New experiences, a fleeting, blissful sting, for in the moment's rapture, consequences take wing.

Credits to Bartos for Cover Image