The Beast Poem by Amy Sutton

If you are looking,
It is easy to spot the first
Stealthy steps
As he begins to stalk them,
His prey.

They cannot see
The truth behind his oh-so-sincere
Insincerities,
His open smiles and his honest lies,
That so carefully
And beautifully cover
The rankness festering within.

There is no saving them.
For he has seduced even Cupid
To fire her sweet-poison bows
Into the virgin flesh
He chooses as his own
To ravage and dispose of.

They walk,
Flanking him, skittering behind
Like handmaidens, dogs,
Desperate for a kind look
And lapping up the sugared nothings
He kisses their way on the breeze.

They do not dream of the
Scorpion sting awaiting
Should they slip too close
Into his waiting, needing embrace.

They will not believe it.
They close their own eyes
As they are spun into confusion,
Drunk on his whispers of
'Love' and 'Need' and 'Want'.

Oh, how black the poison he pours into their hearts.
Oh, how readily they fill their veins with death.