The Beast

A secret, common shame there used to be
Knowing in myself there was two of me
Beneath the noble man whom you can see
Resided a beast growling most furiously

Mocking and mirroring my better self to a tee
The beast roared but fought his cage surreptitiously
He unceasingly made war to conquer me
I was left wondering, Will I ever be free?

At times I wondered, Is the beast really me
Or is he really a facade for evil activity
The diabolical kind suppressed and yearning to breathe free
Hidden underneath good intentions, working invisibly

In the mirror, I saw more than one reflection
I saw the sacred holy and the abominable infection
Light and dark faded to gray promoting deception
Leaving me only with differing shades of dark for selection

Savagery and agression were all that the beast knew
A horrid nature such as this, nothing but evil can it do
Was it attached at the hip with an etheral glue
Slowly, eventually, in my despair I believed it was true

Conflict, striving, persistent, perpetual passion
The weapons of my warfare were somewhat carnal in fashion
An advantage of the beast was his share in my willful bastion
Any resolution to this mess required decisive action

Behold, the end of the beast's reign of tyranny
Came quick when God removed the beast's fear in me
His death was instant and judgment burned searingly
Making way for the only true Sovereignty

Set free by truth and humility
Only by them do I now see
The beast which had plagued me
Ever only was a memory

The old forsaken man who I used to be
Who seemed able to escape death's captivity
Haunting me incessantly and parasitically
Was but a bad memory besetting me

The vampiric beast who once confined me
Has long been slain and never once defined me
I call upon the grace of God to remind me
There's no pit so deep He cannot find me

The carnal beast has been long dead, this I am shown
Evidence is clear to see as I stand upon his tombstone
Is he truly dead, I hear not so much as a moan
Hard to believe, as monstrous and formidable as he had grown

As I turn to walk away from the burial plot
I revel in my free but also transformed thought
I am Christ's alone and for this He has warred and fought
My heart resolves to look to Him, and not back, lest it all be for naught